


The Dragon and the Wolf

by kdinthecity



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Engagement, F/M, Family, Father Figures, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Post-Season/Series, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-10-03 03:08:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17275946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kdinthecity/pseuds/kdinthecity
Summary: He may be the all-powerful ruler of his nation, but there's one man who strikes fear in the heart of the Fire Lord. As far as father figures go, Zuko has great respect for Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe. But why does he have to be her father? A trip to the South Pole becomes complicated by spirit animals, moon meanings, prophecies, and more! Will Zuko ever manage to ask his all-important question?





	1. Word Hunt

When the South Pole's icy banks came into view, Zuko's stomach flip-flopped. This was it. There was no turning back now.

He mentally reviewed his goals for this trip. One, to extend diplomatic support on behalf of the Fire Nation. He couldn't make up for a century's worth of devastation and exploitation, so he had to move forward. With no way to possibly pay for the grievances of his ancestors, he sought a fresh start. Secondly, he wanted to learn more about Water Tribe culture. He had been dating Katara for three years now, but this was a part of her he knew very little about. He vowed to change that.

Then, there were actual vows—the real reason for their visit and the main source of his trepidation. The Fire Nation court spoke of nothing else these days, and the pressure had increased tenfold since Zuko's twenty-first birthday a few months ago. A royal wedding was long overdue. Zuko constantly fought his council of advisors over his dating a waterbender, but in his mind, it wasn't their approval he needed. The favor of one man mattered above all else, but Zuko dreaded facing Chief Hakoda to ask his all-important question.    

_Can't we just, uh, negotiate trade agreements instead?_

Zuko drew in a deep breath of salty air and willed himself to think of something else— _anything_ else. He shivered, from nerves more than cold, and wondered if igloos were actually warm. Katara had a fantasy about igloos, and he welcomed the thought of her warm and wanting, a perfect distraction from his worries.

"Where are all the igloos?" Katara pointed a gloved finger toward their destination.

"That's... interesting," Zuko said distractedly.

 _Not good. Not good at all._ The absence of igloos definitely put a damper on things, especially when Zuko was already undressing Katara in his mind, pressing her searing skin against icy walls and capturing her hiss between his lips.

Unlike the writhing Katara in his glorious daydream, his girlfriend stood next to him on the bow of the ship with her arms folded tightly across layered furs and a purple parka. "Is that an actual harbor?"

Her question regrettably forced him back to reality. It was hard to remember since Zuko hadn't been back to the South Pole since the very first time he met Aang, Sokka, and Katara. It wasn't a time in his life he liked to dwell on—his ponytail-wearing, Avatar-obsessed, fifteen-year-old self. The sooner he could put that all behind him, the better. There was one person in particular with whom he intended to make amends.

_Gran Gran._

Her face stuck out in the crowd that formed a welcoming party at the docks. She smiled brightly at Katara, but Zuko didn't think he imagined the scowl she shot in his direction.

"We have an actual harbor now?" Katara repeated as they disembarked, her voice unnaturally high. She furrowed her brow as she took in their surroundings. Zuko quickly scanned the sea of faces, but Kanna answered his question before he could ask. "Chief Hakoda is in a meeting. We'll meet him at his office."

"Dad has an office?" Katara hooked her elbow with her grandmother's and cast a worried glance back at Zuko.

He shrugged. _An office is a good thing. The new harbor is, too. With a little more sophistication, the Water Tribe will be better contenders on the world scene._ Zuko wouldn't dare say these thoughts aloud, though. Where he saw the changes as improvements, Katara only saw them as different.

"Good trip, Fire Lord?" A gruff voice broke through all the commotion.

"Oh, hi, Master Pakku. Um, yes. The trip was fine, thanks. Glad to be here." Zuko had heard that several Northerners were here assisting with the Southern reconstruction project. He didn't expect Pakku to be among them.

"Kanna has made such a fuss over your visit. The biggest pot of seaprunes I ever saw." Pakku leaned toward him and whispered, "Just between you and me, I'm not a huge fan. I much prefer the Northern style cuisine. But if you ever repeat that, I'll freeze your firebending ass to that archway over there."

Zuko laughed nervously while noticing there was, if fact, a huge archway marking the entrance to the village—no, _city._ He tried to catch up to Katara, but she was busy circulating throughout their procession, greeting her fellow tribe members. No one had paid him much notice, save for Kanna's glare and Pakku's threat, and that was fine by him.

* * *

After visiting Aunt Ashuna's seal jerky shop and Master Pakku's new waterbending school, the group, which had dwindled down to just Zuko, Katara, Kanna, and Pakku, stood together in the middle of what appeared to be a town square. Katara gazed fixedly at the massive building in front of them, her lips forming a thin line.

Zuko lightly brushed up against her. "It's a lot different than you remember it, huh?"

"It was _different_ when I came to visit last summer. This. This is just… I don't even recognize this place. This isn't home."

"Home is where your people are, Katara." Zuko hoped this would reassure her because hey—it's what Uncle would say. "Gran Gran is here. Your father is here. I'm here?" He didn't mean for that last part to sound like a question, a reflection of his old insecurities. _How did I get so damn lucky?_

"Thanks for being here." Katara's whisper tickled his ear, then she dared to kiss him on the cheek. Zuko jumped. Gran Gran cleared her throat, no doubt disapproving of this display of affection. _Is Pakku... laughing?_

"Hey guys! So glad you're here!"

Katara pulled away and narrowed her eyes toward the feminine figure descending the Town Hall steps. Zuko recalled meeting Malina a month or so ago at King Keue's wedding in Ba Sing Se. Katara had made her sentiments clear—she blamed this woman for not only upending her home, but hoodwinking her father as well.

"Hakoda suggested that we all go out to eat for dinner," Malina announced importantly. "He's finishing up a meeting but said he would meet us there."

Katara continued to glare at her.

"But what about Kanna's seaprunes?" Zuko asked in earnest. He'd never tried them before. He also didn't want to upset Kanna... any more than he already had.

"There's a new restaurant that just opened," Pakku said. "They serve Northern style cuisine."

"Oooh, that sounds delightful!" Malina squealed. "I'll go tell Koda now."

The frigid South Pole air around them was so thick with tension, Zuko could slice through it with a sword... or two. _  
_

"Don't look so smug, you old wolfbat." Kanna smirked at Pakku. "I know you don't like my cooking." With that, she whacked him playfully on the arm and gestured for everyone to follow her down the icy pathway.

"They act like an old married couple," Zuko said under his breath. Katara nodded in agreement.

"That's because we _are_ an old married couple." Pakku looked back over his shoulder and winked.

Katara stopped short and gaped at him. "What!? You guys got married? When? Why didn't you invite us to the wedding?"

"Because there was no wedding, Moonflower," Kanna answered with a sly smile. "We eloped."

As they continued walking, Pakku leaned toward Zuko and said in a hushed voice, "And if you have half a brain in that half-singed head of yours, you'll elope, too."

* * *

"So, Fire Lord, what exactly are your intentions with my granddaughter?"

Zuko swallowed quickly to keep from spewing out his wine. Kanna's directness came out of nowhere in the middle of otherwise casual, albeit strained, dinner conversation. "I'm sorry?"

"Well, don't you think it's time you made her a respectable woman?"

"Uh…" _Someone suggested eloping?_ Zuko looked imploringly at Pakku, but he was oh-so-conveniently avoiding all eye contact.

"Gran Gran!" Katara hissed through gritted teeth.

"You shouldn't wait too long. People will start to talk," Kanna continued.

"Talk? What would they—" _Oh._ Zuko suddenly wished he could sink into his chair and disappear.

" _Gran Gran!_ " Katara's face turned bright red.

"There's a Water Tribe saying—if you bed her, you should wed her. So, marry her and make her a respectable woman, Fire Lord."

"I'm sorry. I didn't—" His own face reddened to match Katara's.

"You _didn't?_ You mean to say that you haven't slept with my granddaughter?"

 _Did she have to say it so loud?_   Up until this point, his saving grace had been that Hakoda and Malina were deep in their own conversation. But with several sets of intense blue eyes now boring into him, Zuko had no idea how to properly respond.

It didn't matter because Katara exploded. "We are NOT talking about this right now. Or EVER. This is personal, and it's none of your business! Do you ask Sokka these same questions? About Suki? What about Dad and Malina? None of them are married, you know."

"Katara, dear, I'm just thinking of your reputation," Kanna said calmly. "It's different when you are dating the leader of a foreign nation." 

"UGH!" Katara pushed away from the table and stormed out of the restaurant.

Zuko stared at his food, willing it to give him some clue on what to say next. Pakku cleared his throat. Hakoda reached over to gently squeeze Malina's hand. The ensuing silence was deafening.

"I guess I'll go after her," Kanna said finally with a resigned sigh.

Just as she walked past him, she shoved a shaky finger in Zuko's face. "You will _not_ stay with Katara while you are here. You will stay with your guards on the outskirts of the city."

"But Kanna, he's royalty. And he's our guest," Hakoda appealed.

"You forget what his _royal highness_ did on his last visit here. He's lucky I haven't fed him to the tundrawolves."

"But—"

"I'll stay with my guards," Zuko said dejectedly. "You're absolutely right. I'm lucky to be here, and I am so grateful you've allowed me to come at all."

Kanna scowled at him, unconvinced. "Hmph."

Once she left the room, Zuko let out the breath he had been holding. A server placed another glass of wine in front of him which he downed in one gulp.

"You'll have to excuse Kanna. She's a little set in her ways," Pakku said.

 _A little?_ Zuko coughed as the alcohol burned his throat. "What can I do? I wasn't sure how to answer her question. I want to be honest, but I also don't want to bring shame to Katara or disrespect your family values."

Pakku raised an eyebrow. "In all seriousness, Fire Lord, the Water Tribe folk are not as virtuous as we make ourselves out to be. We have another saying—when the winter winds blow, we know the best way to keep warm. It's why there are so many babies born in the summer."

Heat returned to Zuko's face as Hakoda tried to suppress his laughter from across the table. Katara really did leave him to the wolves here, didn't she?

"Be persistent," Pakku said. "That's what it took for me to gain her favor. It may take years, though. As a warning."

Hakoda gave Zuko a reassuring wink. _Will it take years to gain the chief's approval?  
_

"Just don't give Katara a betrothal necklace. That's my best advice."

Zuko turned back to Pakku, confused by this development. "I wasn't planning to, but why not? If you don't mind me asking…"

"It won't score you any points with Kanna. She hates the damn things."

"But didn't you make one for her?"

" _Years_ ago. And it chased her away. And so here we are today."

Zuko nodded in understanding. "Right. She doesn't like arranged marriages. But surely she doesn't think that Katara and I are only together for political reasons?"

Pakku shook his head. "That's not it entirely. She doesn't like the idea of forced marriages."

"I would never force Katara to do anything she didn't want to do."

The old waterbender chuckled dryly. "I doubt that you could. At any rate, Kanna probably just wants you to be careful, that's all. There are certain things that may be beyond your control. That may force you to make decisions before you are ready."

Zuko clinched his jaw, annoyed that Pakku was laughing at his expense. But then he softened as comprehension dawned. "Is she worried about Katara getting pregnant?"

Pakku planted his elbows on the table and leaned over to whisper, "Fire Lord, someday when you are older, and if you choose to have children, you will understand that one of your main goals will be to teach them not to repeat your own mistakes."

 _Did Kanna leave the North because she was pregnant?_ "Master Pakku, is Katara... is she your—" Zuko stopped mid-sentence. He already knew the answer, and judging by Pakku's expression, it was better not to ask.


	2. Pack Hunt

"What were you and Pakku talking about? Looked pretty serious," Hakoda asked as he escorted Zuko to his accommodations after dinner.

"Oh, uh, nothing much." Pakku had acted so secretive about it, but surely Hakoda knew that he was Katara's biological grandfather. _Does Katara know? She's never mentioned it._

"I hope he was giving you tips on how to get on Kanna's good side."

"How did you get on her good side, Chief Hakoda?" _Because honestly, I could use all the help I can get._

"Just Hakoda is fine. Let's see... Kanna came to the South Pole when I was just a kid, so it wasn't too hard to be on her good side then. The real challenge came when I wanted to ask for Kya's hand in marriage."

"Yeah. I'm glad I don't have to do that." Zuko shivered. "Ask Kanna, I mean. At least I don't think so?"

"No, no. Tradition is to ask the father. Or mother, I guess, in my case." Hakoda stopped walking and looked at him expectantly. Zuko stopped, too, since he had no idea where he was going, although he'd rather run away from this conversation instead. The stage was perfectly set for him to ask his all-important question, but his nerves were completely shot from dinner.

"Zuko, is there something you wanted to ask me?"

"Uh... can I—" _Oh, for Agni's sake, just say it!_ "C-can I… go hunting?"

"What?" Hakoda raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Hunting," Zuko repeated. "I want to learn more about Water Tribe culture while I'm here, and Sokka says hunting is a big thing, so… will you take me— _teach me_ how to hunt?"

"Of course, Zuko. How about day after tomorrow? Maliq's newest drawings just arrived, so I need to meet with the building team tomorrow, but the next day, I should be free."

Zuko swallowed. "Great. Yeah, OK. Thank you, Chi—Hakoda... sir."

Hakoda let out an exasperated sigh and started walking again. "Did you meet Maliq in Ba Sing Se? He's Malina's brother."

"Yes, I did." Zuko hurried to catch up with him.

"Well, after King Kuei's wedding, he went back to the North for a brief stint. When I got your letter about the suicide assassin, I sent word to him. He's agreed to do some investigating for us while he's up there. I just wanted to let you know."

"OK, thanks. Yeah, that was… crazy." This change in topic about Katara's near-death on a train in Ba Sing Se filled Zuko with a renewed sense of dread.

"Do you really think he was aiming for Katara? No offense, but the Fire Lord traveling through the Earth Kingdom would be a more likely target. The Water Tribes have their differences, sure, but the North hasn't done suicide missions in years."

Tiredness from travel—and the anxiety-ridden evening—muddled his brain. "It's possible. Everything happened so fast. He said he had a message from you, and then he attacked Katara, but I could be mistaken."

"Right. That's very... strange," Hakoda said. "And one of your guards saved her?"

"Yes, sir." Zuko stifled a yawn.

"Well, I wish more of the apartment buildings were finished so we could offer your guards a better place to stay. Unfortunately, it's just the igloos for now." He stopped and made a sweeping gesture with his arm toward a large encampment of igloos positioned at the outskirts of the city.

 _So, this is where Kanna has banished me. To an igloo of all places._ At Zuko's crestfallen expression, Hakoda added, "They're really not so bad. The ice blocks cut the wind better than you'd think. And each one is stocked with plenty of warm fur blankets. Let us know if you need anything, OK?"

 _I need Katara._ "OK, thank you, Chief Hakoda."

* * *

Zuko watched his breath dissipate in the cold morning air. He wrapped his arms tighter around his parka but not so much in an effort to keep warm, but rather to quell the bumbleflies that were buzzing in his stomach. Why was such a simple question a seemingly insurmountable obstacle when he and Katara had faced death together—more than once—and overcome?

He feared for his life now, despite having known her father for years. And when Hakoda visited for his birthday three months ago, he'd given Zuko a bear hug and was practically calling him family already.

Maybe it was because Hakoda looked like just that—a bear—wrapped in furs from head to toe, brandishing a spear and a wide grin. "You ready to go?"

Zuko's knees almost buckled as he shivered in his snow boots. "Y-yes, sir."

"Are you cold there, son?"

"N-no, sir. Firebenders don't—nevermind." Zuko shifted his weight and eyed his own spear with uncertainty. He'd better ask his question before his hunting skills became some sort of test.

Hakoda tilted his head. "You don't like hunting, do you?"

"Uh, it's not that. I just don't know if I'm any good at it."

"Well, it takes practice. But I get to do it all the time. You're the one who suggested it. So, if you'd rather do something else…"

"No, it's fine." Zuko willed himself to look at Hakoda's ice-blue eyes, relieved to find that his expression was characteristically kind.

"Zuko, I can tell there's something else on your mind."

He took a deep breath. _This is it. I can do this._ "Yes, sir. It's about Katara." His voice grew sturdier now.

Hakoda dropped his spear in the snow between them. Zuko flinched at the unnerving _crunch_ it made, but at least this meant he was unarmed.

"I would like to ask for her hand in marriage."

Hakoda folded his arms across his chest. Zuko thought he looked even bigger standing like that, and the bumbleflies continued their frenzied dance.

Then he started laughing. It was a hearty, booming sound that Zuko usually liked but not so much right now. Once Hakoda had recovered, he said, "Well, son, I appreciate the gesture, but the way I heard it, you already asked Katara in Ba Sing Se."

Zuko smacked a gloved hand on his forehead. He _did_ ask Katara in the heat of the moment at King Keue's wedding reception. It was not how he originally planned to propose. He was here now to set things right. Plus, he and Katara hadn't really talked about that night since. And she didn't technically give him an answer, either.

Hakoda picked up his spear again. "Come on. Let's go hunting."

Like father, like daughter, apparently. Zuko was doomed to be suspended in uncertainty forever. _Should I ask again?_

* * *

He debated on what to do while struggling to keep in step. They had covered a fair distance when Hakoda stopped abruptly and turned to face Zuko.

"One of the hardest things I ever had to do was ask Kanna for Kya's hand in marriage. Kanna is from the north where arranged marriages are the tradition, so she had to make sure my intentions were for true love before she would grant permission. That's why she left the North Pole. She wouldn't marry for obligation, and she'd be damned before her daughter would, too. I was newly minted as chief, so I foolishly tried to appeal to Kanna on that front. She told me no at first."

Zuko nodded in understanding. "I would never expect Katara to marry me out of obligation. It might look like a political arrangement, but I assure you it's not." He felt confident in this answer, yet anxious for what Hakoda might say next.

"Then why do you want to marry Katara?"

"Because I love her." Zuko was confident in this, too.

Hakoda raised an eyebrow.

"And she loves me, too. We love each other."

"Do you think love is enough? Because what you're asking won't be easy."

Nothing for Zuko ever came easy, including this conversation. "I think love is hard."

Hakoda kept looking at him expectantly, so Zuko continued, now completely off-script. "It's hard talking to another person when I'd rather just keep to myself. It's hard to think of her first when so many others demand my attention. And it's hard to ask her to make sacrifices when I can't guarantee that I'm worth it. But… I would rather talk to her, because there is nothing better than being accepted, loved, and _understood_ by Katara. And even when I'm completely drained, when everyone else is on my last nerve, I always look forward to spending time with her no matter what. And she's not only taught me how to love, but to let myself be loved. Chief Hakoda, sir, your daughter makes me a better person, and I can't imagine my life without her."

Hakoda quietly surveyed him for what seemed like forever. Finally, he clapped Zuko on the back and said, "It's a beautiful speech, son, but you had my blessing months ago."

Zuko sighed deeply, relieved, yet also confused.

"I'm so sorry, Zuko. I sometimes forget that not everyone knows Water Tribe customs. When I gave you the jaw blade as a birthday present, it was symbolic. You're already part of the pack. So relax. Enjoy the rest of your visit." Hakoda lightly squeezed his shoulder. "And don't worry about Kanna. She'll come around eventually."

Zuko watched his breath release with a puff of steam. The furs he was wearing started to feel hot and heavy, yet at the same time, a tremendous weight had been lifted. He shielded his eyes from the brightness of the sun reflecting off the snow.

Hakoda's gaze drifted skyward. "It'll be lunch time soon. We should head back."

They started walking and, reflecting on his success, Zuko asked, "Is that what you had to do to receive Kanna's blessing? Tell her why you loved Kya?"

Hakoda laughed. "No, I had to bring her the fattest kill from my hunt."

Zuko's golden eyes widened as his face blanched—a contrast much like the sun and snow. "I do appreciate not having to prove my love with my hunting abilities."

"Well, love is a lot like hunting, actually. It takes patience, practice, and… _prowess_." Hakoda winked at him. _He does that a lot._

"That sounds like something my uncle would say." Did this mean he now had two loving father figures in his life?

When they came to a clearing within view of the village, Katara stood there waiting with one hand on her hip. "You guys didn't catch _anything_?"

Zuko just shrugged. It might not have been a good hunt, but it certainly wasn't unproductive.

"Not every hunt is about the kill, Katara," Hakoda said.

She smirked back at him. "OK… but you'll have to answer to Gran Gran when you show up empty handed."

* * *


	3. Trust Hunt

It was debatable whether they'd actually hunted at all, unless holding a spear and traipsing through the tundra counted. For his part, Zuko considered it a resounding success, having asked his all-important question and receiving Hakoda's blessing in return.

Kanna's blessing, however, was a different story. It made much more sense to follow Hakoda's example and bring in the fattest kill to gain her approval. Shouldn't a man demonstrate his ability to provide for a wife? Zuko perfectly understood performing in order to prove onseself. Why was Hakoda's trust so freely given? _Because he doesn't know my past_...

Since they yielded nothing from the morning's hunt, Kanna charged both of them with the task of cooking lunch. Hakoda balked at this, claiming he had work to do. Zuko didn't mind as much, hoping to earn some points by helping out. He followed a begrudging Hakoda into the kitchen where an array of fish, vegetables, and cooking utensils awaited them. Hakoda picked up a knife, and Zuko watched the muscles in his forearm flex with his tightened grip. A smile and a spear was nothing compared to a scowl and a knife.

_Oh shit, now he's holding two knives! OK, focus. I think I know fish. But I've never seen those vegetables before. What if I mess up lunch? Then Kanna will hate me forever. Who am I kidding? She'll never forgive me, even if I cooked her a gourmet meal. I'll always be the face of the enemy. The chief is so welcoming, but would he look at me differently if he knew the truth? Why is he looking at me now?_

"Hey, you there?" Hakoda barked. "I'm about to give you a filet knife, so a little presence of mind would be good."

"Oh. Right. Sorry, sir." Zuko promptly positioned a fish on the cutting block to show he was ready.

"We wouldn't want you to get another unnecessary scar because you weren't paying attention."

Zuko's hand froze in mid-slice. _He knows..._

"I'm so sorry, Zuko. That came out wrong. I—"

Zuko carefully set down the knife and drew in a deep breath. "No, no. I'm sure if I had been paying attention, I would have fewer scars… _sir_." 

Hakoda's forehead knitted in regret. "I only meant that it is unnecessary for a father to strike his son. That's not punishment, that's—"

"Who said it was my father?" Zuko snapped. _Please don't…_ _I can't…  
_

Hakoda set down his own knife and sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed. Your sister, then?"

"No, sir."

Zuko felt ice blue eyes piercing him, _freezing_ him. It was enough to make the scar in question burn with a feverish ache and prickle with an uneasy chill all at the same time. Just when he was doing so well. _I don't want you to know my weakness… my fear._

"It's just... I believe families should love and trust each other," Hakoda said finally.

Zuko looked away, knowing the truth was written all over his face.

"And… I trust you, Zuko," he added.

Even though Zuko heard the words, a different voice broke through. _Trust is for fools. Fear is the only reliable way._ Hakoda wasn't that far off—his sister had inflicted wounds, too. He closed his eyes, hoping everything, all of it, would just go away. _Azula always lies. Azula always lies._

"Are you two cooking or jabbering in here?" Katara's arrival made Zuko jump in combined surprise and relief _._

Katara looked cautiously back and forth between them. "This conversation is a little too deep for chopping vegetables. Somebody might get hurt."

Zuko winced. _Right. Hurt._

"How about I take over from here?" She smiled and nudged him with her elbow.

"You s-sure? Won't that make Kanna mad?"

"Gran Gran went to get Pakku." Katara leaned over and muttered under her breath, "And Malina is driving me crazy, so go keep her company, will ya?"

* * *

Zuko struck out on making small-talk with Malina. It was never his forte anyway. When Katara didn't show up for lunch, he figured this had become a thing—fending for himself at mealtime without her. _Does she ever eat?_

Hakoda kept flashing him worried looks, so instead of asking about Katara, Zuko wracked his brain for the proper response after their conversation in the kitchen. _Thank you for your trust? I'm sorry, but I have trust issues?_

As the lunch conversation carried on, a series of clipped words and strained phrases, Hakoda's edginess from earlier sharpened significantly. There was definitely some residual tension between him and Kanna, and Malina was caught up in it, too. Zuko was no stranger to domestic conflict, but this family fought differently. Less fiery, more frigid. Less reactive, more calculated. This stewing and brewing was more torturous than the quick and easy resolution of a an Agni Kai.

Although for Zuko, an Agni Kai was anything but quick and easy. The few he'd fought still haunted his dreams. He reached up to touch his scar but quickly withdrew his hand when he saw Hakoda was watching.

Pakku, the seasoned warrior, opted for an evade and escape tactic by remaining silent throughout the meal and taking the first opportunity to duck out early. "Would you be up for a spar, Fire Lord?" Pakku said as he stood to leave. "I haven't had a decent opponent in ages."

"But what about Katara?" Zuko asked.

"What about her?"

"She'd be a good opponent." _Except... where did she go?_

"Well, I'm sure she can kick your ass. But she's predictable… especially since I taught her everything she knows." Pakku smirked.

 _You'd be surprised._ "Sure. You're on."

Fighting Pakku was nothing like sparring with Katara. Because she's _anything_ but predictable, combining traditional moves—much like the ones Pakku now executed flawlessly—with a style that's completely her own. Pakku was clearly a master, though, strong and accurate and ultimately _very_ predictable. Zuko was a little out of practice, but he was still agile and fast.

The fight drew a small audience, and because of that, Zuko let Pakku win. He'd devised a way to do this without his opponent suspecting anything. He'd often lose on purpose when fighting Azula in their younger years because he'd learned the stakes would be much higher if he didn't. And he'd throw fights with Katara occasionally, too, but she absolutely couldn't know. She wouldn't stand for it. She could definitely beat him, but there were times when she needed to dominate, to overpower him. Zuko sensed some underlying symbolism—they may be equally matched, but they hadn't always been.

This fight was symbolic for Zuko, too. Water Tribe and Fire Nation were now equal on the global scene, but the pursuit of peace didn't erase the pain and suffering of the past. By his own country's code of honor, Zuko couldn't surrender. But he could lose and acknowledge his worthy opponent. A simple sparring victory wasn't meant to assuage the grievances his nation had caused, but he hoped it would demonstrate humility, openness, and respect.

* * *

"Do you always invite your opponent to tea after you defeat them?" Zuko eyed Pakku over the rim of his cup as he breathed in the steam. Its herbal flavor was nothing like his uncle's more floral brew, but he liked it all the same. Tea with old people—yeah, that was a thing.

"You know what they say, when you can't beat 'em, poison 'em," Pakku said with a sly smile.

Zuko coughed and pounded a fist to his chest. "B-but you beat me, sir?"

"Did I?" Pakku raised an eyebrow and lifted his own teacup.

_Oh shit. He knows._

"Tell me, Fire Lord. Had we finished the fight properly, who do you think would have really won?"

Zuko swallowed. "I don't know. Probably you. It's been a long day, and I'm tired, so—"

"That's not the reason you threw the fight. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was to protect an old man's pride or maybe to make a good impression for your girlfriend's family, but that's not it, either. It was a diplomatic move, and well played, I might add." Pakku's gray-blue eyes softened, a hue that reminded Zuko of misty mornings at sea.

"Uh, yes, sir. Thank you."

"So, answer my question truthfully. Who do you think would have won in the end?" Pakku paused to take another sip. "We can go fight again and find out."

"No, no. That won't be necessary." _I really am tired._ "I still think it would have been you, sir."

"And why is that?"

"Because we're on your turf. You have all this water and ice at your command. My only source is my inner fire."

"Ah, but we supposedly had home advantage when the Fire Nation attacked us. What happened then?"

Zuko shifted nervously in his seat. "Uh... you were outnumbered, sir."

"I see. So what you're saying is that people do best when they are in their element. And that strength comes in numbers, eh?"

"Yeah, sounds right."

"And alone, you are only as strong as your inner fire, as you put it."

"Yes."

"So let this be a lesson in Water Tribe culture, Fire Lord. We are a communal people. No man stands alone. Even fire needs air and fuel to burn." Pakku leaned in close enough for Zuko to smell the herbs on his breath. "My point is, it is OK to need people. A solo ship is lost at sea, but a fleet has purpose."

Zuko sighed and slowly sipped his tea. He knew what it was like to sail solo for a purpose, and it turned out to be a lost cause. He'd never really had a fleet—or a family, until now.

Then the old master set down his cup with a sudden _clank._ "There is also such a thing as Water Tribe pride, so don't EVER pull a stunt like that again. Next time we fight to the end."

* * *

 


	4. Fur Hunt

Since coming to the South Pole, Zuko had mixed feelings about the furs. It was springtime, so while still very cold, the presence of the sun still flowed through his veins. Fur lined his parka, providing much-needed warmth, but sometimes that extra layer was too warm—not exactly designed with a firebender in mind. The part of the parka that bothered him the most, though, was the fur-lined hood. It tickled only part of his face, and he didn't like how the sensation was uneven. Years removed from receiving his scar, he'd gotten used to it. The feeling of fur was new, and the reminder was unwelcome.

Being at the South Pole brought back other unpleasant memories, too. Like the one where he grabbed an elderly woman's fur-lined hood and made threats to a small village of helpless women and children. Kanna would always hate him. He was sure of it. Every time he saw her, she pinned him with a fur-lined scowl etched in weather-worn wrinkles. He was so relieved to have Hakoda's blessing and even more grateful to not require Kanna's. That didn't mean he didn't want it, though. With the way things were going so far, he didn't think he would get it, either. Her first order was to banish him, and he honestly couldn't blame her. It's what he deserved.

So, here he was. In an igloo camp on the edge of the city, sleeping among Fire Nation guards and Northern tribesmen. Being one of the outsiders didn't bother him that much. Sure, the igloo got pretty cold at night, but it was well-stocked with blankets to keep him warm. But as he started to resent the fur, he found himself longing for Katara's warmth.

Shortly before their trip, she had confided in him her fantasy about igloos. Something about the contrasting hot and cold sensations—the union of fire and water. Zuko very much wanted to fulfill this fantasy while in the South Pole. It's not like they had igloos in the Fire Nation, after all. But Kanna always kept a short leash on Katara and the stink eye fixed on him. Zuko resigned to being on his best behavior with hopes of eventually winning Gran Gran's favor.

On the fourth morning of their visit, he awoke with the igloo fantasy as his most pressing thought—along with something else pressing into the piles of fur on top of him. He cursed aloud. With no hope of Katara ever joining him, he'd have to take care of himself. So, would the heaviness of the blankets interfere with his leverage? Or would the softness of the fur make things more interesting in terms of sensation?

_Damn, Katara. I miss you._

"Zuko?"

 _Aw, shit._ He stilled his motions and schooled his breathing as best he could. 

"You in there?" The voice came from just outside the igloo door.

"Yes, sir, Chief Hakoda."

"Oh good, you're awake. Well, get dressed, son, and meet me at the dock. Kanna says we're out of fish, and we need to redeem ourselves from yesterday's hunt. Morning is the best time to go fishing, so…"

"Yes, sir. Be right there." Zuko waited until the sound of boots crunching in snow reached a certain distance before he could quench the fire that throbbed in his hand.

* * *

Zuko was far more comfortable with a paddle in his hand instead of a spear. And much more at ease sitting in the stern of a canoe than afoot in the thicket. And without a certain question hovering over him, he felt more relaxed around Katara's father, too.

"Zuko, have you ever heard of ice dodging?" Hakoda asked as they steadily rowed out to sea.

"No, sir."

"It's an initiation, of sorts. For young tribesmen. It's a ceremonial induction where they dodge a series of icebergs to demonstrate wisdom, bravery, and trust. Afterward they are considered official members of the tribe."

Zuko shouldn't have counted on Hakoda's acceptance coming so easily. "So, do we intend to go ice dodging this morning then?"

"What? No, no. We're not even in the right type of vessel for it. Besides, Zuko, how many times do I have to tell you? You're already family."

"I… know. I'm sorry. I guess I just—"

"You don't think you deserve it."

Zuko sighed. He had worked for years to gain his own father's approval, and Hakoda made it too simple. He expected something more along the lines of ice dodging—a way to perform and prove one's worthiness.

"Do you know what happens if a young tribesman can't pass the test? If he doesn't clear the ice dodging course?" Hakoda continued.

"No, sir." _He's banished from the tribe?_

"Well, he won't receive his mark of honor. But he's still part of the family. He was part of the tribe before he even began."

Zuko instinctively brushed his fingers across the side of his face, his source of shame. _Honor_ and _family_ were terms he was trying to redefine.

"I'm sorry, Zuko. I didn't meant to—" Hakoda placed his paddle in his lap and pointed starboard. "I only mentioned it because the ice dodging course is right over there. And if we can make it through, there's some of the best fishing on the other side. What do you think?"

"Oh… um… I thought you said we didn't have the right boat for it?"

"We don't have the right boat for the ice dodging ritual which is supposed to be a demonstration of team effort. The canoe should do just fine. It's just—"

"It's just what?"

"The water levels are higher this time of year when the glaciers start to melt. It can make things more unpredictable. I haven't done the course in ages, so…"

"So you didn't bring me out here to test me… you brought me out here to kill me?"

"Zuko..." Hakoda's look of concern shifted into a reassuring smirk.

A little unsettled by his own joke, Zuko cleared his throat. "Well, we're both dead men if we don't bring any fish back to Kanna, so I say, let's go for it."

The lightness of mood immediately lifted as soon as he saw the series of ice formations in the water. _We're done for. No joke.  
_

"It looks worse than it really is," Hakoda said. "You just focus on steering around the big ones, and I'll guide us around the little ones I can see from the front. The water will propel us forward, so it's really all about the side-to-side maneuvers. Got it?"

Zuko didn't have a chance to answer before they drifted into the current. Without warning, raging water thrust them forward, and Zuko had to tighten his grip on his paddle to keep from losing it. He had suspected that water was the strongest element, especially after getting to know Katara. This experience could very well confirm that for him.

At first, everything was a blur—sea mist nipping at his exposed skin, Hakoda's commands ringing in his ears, and menacing ice peaks coming at them from all directions. But then the words _mark of honor_ sprang to mind, along with a sense of purpose and clarity. He wanted, more than anything, to prove himself to Hakoda. It wasn't about seeking approval, either, since they were doing this together—a partnership. He couldn't let Hakoda down. Determination set in, from his brow creased in concentration down to his white-knuckled grip on the paddle. _  
_

Since Hakoda was in front, he was able to see what was coming ahead better than Zuko. So, here was a lesson in trust right out of the chute. It was near impossible to hear Hakoda's verbal instructions, but Zuko had no trouble following his visual cues. It didn't take long for them to find their rhythm, and they completed the course with ease.

Once they were floating idly in calmer waters, Hakoda turned around and smiled widely. "Zuko! You're a natural! I know you commanded your own ship, but—"

"I had a lot of time on my hands." Zuko shrugged. "And nothing but water surrounding me." He didn't mention how whenever he was determined, he could not be deterred. It was more a character flaw, really. _Like trying to find the Avatar._

Hakoda clapped his hands together. "We make a pretty good team, son! Well done, well done."

Zuko forced a smile, haunted by unbidden memories of his past. Darkness always found a way to creep in and steal any joy he had managed in the moment.

Hakoda furrowed his brow. "Zuko, what's the—wait!" He rummaged through his bag and held up a small container. "Ah, good. A true tribesman never leaves home without his war paint!"

Zuko eyed him curiously as he carefully shifted his position in the canoe to where they were within an arm's reach of each other. He dipped a finger in the paint, and Zuko flinched at the cool sensation on his forehead. Hakoda paused, reading his reaction like a book. He waited for Zuko to release the breath he was holding and then traced an arc—a new mark.

"May the spirits of water bear witness and grant their blessing. On this day, Fire Lord Zuko, as an honorary member of the Water Tribe, has earned the mark of the trusted. I, Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe, trust you with my own life… with the lives of my loved ones... and the lives of our fellow tribesmen."

Zuko couldn't describe what he was feeling even if he tried, only that it was completely overwhelming. Some combination of gratitude, confusion, and grief. The Fire Nation didn't have such distinctions. There was only the mark of dishonor given to the one who surrenders during an Agni Kai, and Zuko bore the worst one of all.

"Thank you, sir," was all he could manage. He closed his eyes, trying to push back the flood of emotions. He didn't think crying at one's ice dodging initiation would be seen as very manly. But when he looked back at Hakoda, he was met with tear-brimmed eyes, carefully studying his scar.

"It _was_ your father—"

Zuko dropped his gaze, giving only a slight nod in response. The tears flowed now, and for once, he was grateful for his fur-lined hood. The silence stretched painfully between them as he tried not to relive that fateful, terrible day.

Finally Hakoda spoke, his voice firm and unmistakably fatherly. "The mark is only a symbol. The paint will wash away, but what matters is the lesson you learned today. Can you tell me what that was?"

So, here was his test. "That family is important," he said with a defeated sigh. Hakoda frowned, so Zuko quickly added, "And families should love and trust each other."

"So what happens when you can't trust your family? When they do something to sever that trust... something unforgivable." 

Zuko gave the only answer he could give—what had worked for him. "You find a new family?"

Ice blue eyes pierced him once again. "No. You must learn to trust yourself."


	5. Fish Hunt

"I've never seen so many fish in my life!" Zuko marveled at the sight, careful not to lean too far over the edge of the canoe or else take a plunge into icy waters. Although, with a layer of sweat sealing sticky fur uncomfortably to his skin, a dip in the ocean didn't sound half-bad. The lingering adrenaline rush from ice dodging plus the mid-morning sun urged him on, too. Besides, he'd done it before… in the North Pole.

He had almost succumbed to another guilt-ridden reverie when the fish darted away from their canoe, drawing his eyes to the crystal clear span of sea around them. A different flash from his past struck him—a thirteen-year-old leaning over a ship's railing, staring down at his reflection. The scarred face that looked back at him was hurt and hopeless. And that boy thought of jumping, too—not to relieve the heat, but to release the pain.

Zuko saw his reflection now, but it wasn't the scar that stood out to him. It was the arc on his forehead—the mark of the trusted. He knew he could honor it, at least the part where others could trust him with their lives. But it was that last part Hakoda had said— _trust yourself_ —he wasn't sure about.

"We better make quick work of this, Zuko," Hakoda announced urgently. "They're already starting to swim away."

"How are there so many?" Zuko caught the bundle of netting Hakoda tossed to him and coiled the handline around his wrist.

"They've come here to spawn. When the glaciers start to melt, it creates a layer of freshwater that is perfect for feeding and breeding. See how we're surrounded by the glaciers here? It's like a freshwater cove right in the middle of the ocean."

Zuko squinted up at the ice walls towering above them. "Wow, that's amazing."

"The ice dodging course is created by pieces of the glaciers breaking off during the spring and summer melts. As long as temperatures follow their seasonal patterns, everything stays in balance. But if the glaciers melt too much, then the water level gets too high. If not enough, then the wildlife suffers. Everything is about balance, Zuko."

"Makes sense." _Balance_ was another concept he struggled to define.

They set to work for their first cast, each tossing a net to one side of the canoe. Zuko was glad he remembered the technique, still impressed by the need to prove himself to Hakoda. It took all of their combined strength to haul in the catch, though. _We make a good team..._

Zuko feared their yield would tip the canoe. After drawing in the nets, teeming with shimmery scales, Hakoda wrapped a thin seal skin canopy around the bundle of fish and secured it with rope. Zuko watched the process with mixed fascination and horror. _But the fish are still alive...  
_

"We need to head back, so we can get the fish on ice as soon as possible." Hakoda picked up his paddle and resumed his position in the bow of the canoe.

Zuko settled in, too, but couldn't take his eyes off the thrashing seal skin in between them. _How long does it take? When will they stop struggling? Can't they just die already?_

Zuko closed his eyes and focused on the rhythm of his rowing. He tried to remember what his crew did on large fishing trips, how they handled this part of it. Whenever he and Uncle fished together, they usually roasted the fish to eat right then and there. If there was ever a need to save fish for later, Uncle insisted on killing them swiftly so they wouldn't suffer. Zuko knew the precise cut to make, but he'd left his jaw blade back in the igloo. _Like no true tribesman would ever do._ _There's too many of them anyway._

Resigned to their fate, he slowly opened his eyes, hoping the worst was over. But instead of small frantic bursts of motion, the whole bundle now appeared to be moving as one. Zuko imagined the fish fighting together for survival. His breath quickened, a fire lit within.

_All they want is to live._

_All they need is water. And air.  
_

_And we just came in and took it away from them._

It was too much. Too close to home. Zuko didn't even realize what he was doing until it was over. He could feel Hakoda's ice-cold shock piercing him through the cloud of smoke, but Zuko couldn't bear to make eye contact. He was frozen with shame—for what he did... and what his people had done, too.

"Zuko, are you alright?"

It wasn't what he expected to hear. He expected to be reprimanded for burning the fish. He expected to be chided for jeopardizing their lives. He expected to be criticized for his bad judgment. He expected to be called unworthy.

Because that was how he felt. _I can't trust myself. I feel too strongly. I act impulsively.  
_

"I'm sorry." He felt this strongly, too, and hated how weak he sounded when he said it.

Hakoda waved his arms to clear the air, but Zuko feared the air would never truly be clear between them, not after this  He looked down at his hands, the ones that always brought about fire and destruction, and balled them into fists. He bit back his explanation when the boat shifted and a charred fish entered his field of view.

"You should try this. It's actually good."

Zuko turned the blackened fish over in his palm, breathing in its searing, yet savory smell. He took a bite.

Hakoda was watching him intently with a spark in his eyes. "So, what do you think?"

"It needs salt," Zuko deadpanned.

After a few beats, Hakoda erupted into laughter. Zuko chanced a small smile. Then, Hakoda dug around in his bag again and handed over a packet of parchment secured with twine. Bewildered, Zuko carefully untied it. _Of course._

"You brought salt?"

"It can be used to preserve the fish. Or any kind of meat. It's always good to be prepared," Hakoda explained with a fixed gaze.

Penetrated by those eyes of ice, Zuko wished he could just melt away. "Sir, about the fire… and the fish…"

"I'm not concerned about the fish."

"I know it was careless. I—it won't happen again."

"If it bothered you that much, why didn't you just throw them back?"

Zuko blinked. "Huh?"

"You couldn't stand to watch them struggle for life, so you killed them," Hakoda clarified. "You could have set them free instead."

"I—" Zuko swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump that had formed in his throat. _I hadn't considered that until now._

He could tell by the way Hakoda was looking at him that this was another test—no, lesson. He took a deep breath. "Well, I knew that we needed the fish to take back to the village. Setting them free never occurred to me as an option. So, I wanted a way to kill them faster... so they wouldn't suffer. Fire wasn't the best choice, obviously, but I don't always think things through."

"You know, Zuko, as a leader, you will have to make difficult decisions. And sometimes there is not a clear right answer. If you do one thing, one group suffers. If you do another thing, another group suffers. You may think that you acted on impulse, but I'd call it _instinct_. And when you learn to trust yourself, you'll find that you can trust your instincts, too."

"But my instinct was to burn the fish!"

"And they taste damn good if you ask me. Like a new Water Tribe, Fire Nation delicacy!" Hakoda placed a hand on Zuko's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Sometimes you have to make compromises. And sometimes you just have to make do with what you have. So, it's important to be adaptable and creative. Now, let's go see what Kanna thinks about our new dish!"

Zuko gaped at him. This must be what real fathers are like. Instead of doling out punishment— _or worse_ —they craft teaching moments. In only a few short days, he had learned so much.

They both started rowing again, and after setting a steady pace, Hakoda said, "I never really thought about the fish suffering. It makes sense. Suffocation is a terrible way to die. It's just the way we've always done it in the Water Tribe. But that doesn't mean we can't change it. Like you said, we should find a way to kill them faster."

Zuko kept staring wide-eyed, his mind blown yet again. He expected fathers, even good ones, to always be giving the advice, not taking it. He dared to express his opinion in his father's presence, only to be met with death threats. Even then, he spoke on behalf of the defenseless— and had been branded for it. _Suffering will be your teacher...  
_

Hakoda had shown him there were better ways to learn a lesson.

In a diplomatic setting, Zuko would expect Chief Hakoda to listen to him as Fire Lord. He believed in the exchange of ideas among world leaders to best serve all interested parties. Since the war's end, the Southern Water Tribe had been largely receptive to cooperation with the Fire Nation. It was progress, even if their fledgling alliance resembled the delicacy of burnt fish.

Did it have anything to do with the fact that the Fire Lord was dating the Chief's daughter? Sure, Zuko sought Hakoda's support first before entreating other nations. And perhaps Hakoda extended his favor on the basis of both diplomacy and the bond of family. Yet, Zuko still firmly contended that his relationship with Katara wasn't arranged for political reasons and by association, neither was his relationship with her father.

So when he felt like Hakoda truly valued his opinion, apart from all sense of obligation, it was one of the best feelings in the world.

* * *

 


	6. Egg Hunt

Zuko wasn't one to complain, but his shoulders were screaming from all the rowing. _Are we still caught in the ice dodging current? This is taking forever._

Hakoda seemingly read his mind. "The journey home is always longer and harder."

Truer words had never been spoken to someone with the likes of Zuko's past, and a flood of memories engulfed him yet again.

"You do that a lot."

A jolt hit him, bringing him back from a place he didn't want to be anyway. "What's that?"

"Go somewhere. With your thoughts. I can tell it's someplace dark, because you lose the light in your eyes when you do."

Zuko turned his gaze toward whitecaps cresting in the distance.

"It's one thing to reflect on your past so you can learn from it," Hakoda continued. "But it's another thing entirely to dwell on it. You'll drown that way."

Zuko bobbed his head in time with the waves lapping at the hull of their canoe. Apparently everything with Hakoda was about a lesson, then. Zuko really did appreciate it, but for today, he was starting to feel weary of it.

Hakoda was able to sense that, too. "I'm sorry, Zuko. I don't mean to preach... or pry. You just seem to have a lot on your mind. And it weighs heavily on you."

_You know what else weighs heavily on me? This damn fur coat._

Zuko stood abruptly to shed his parka, shivering as cold air hit the sheen of sweat underneath.

Hakoda flashed his characteristic grin. "Feel better?"

"Yeah."

Although, his thin tunic was hardly appropriate for a day at sea. If he started making more frequent trips to the South Pole, he might need a Water Tribe tailor. Zuko stretched his aching muscles before settling back into position. _My paddle. Oh spirits, where's my paddle?_

He shifted a few things around in the canoe to look for it, but he already knew. With a quick glance through clear arctic water, he confirmed—his paddle was at the bottom of the ocean.

Hakoda peered over the side, too, and shrugged. "Don't worry about it, Zuko. There's nothing we can do."

But Zuko was an excellent swimmer with impressive breath control as a firebender. Plus, he'd done it before at the Siege of the North. Sure, the stakes had been higher than just some canoe paddle, but he was no longer slave to his father's tainted rewards. In light of the day's events so far, he'd do even the smallest task for Hakoda without hesitation.

"No, Zuko, NO!"

He took no heed of the warning and dove right in, immediately assaulted by ice and pain. The distance was further than he had gauged from standing in the canoe, and his arms, sore from rowing, refused to obey. But Zuko wasn't one to give up too easily. He warmed himself with his inner fire and willed his aching muscles to propel him forward. When he was finally within reach, he gripped his fist tightly around the paddle and pushed off the ocean floor with his feet. Zuko slowly ascended toward a blurry image of Hakoda, hovering just above the water's surface. But then something caught his attention.

Zuko tossed the paddle into the canoe and dove back in, ignoring Hakoda's frantic shouting and outstretched hand. It was embedded in a pile of rocks, and with renewed strength, he swam toward it. He might not have noticed it at all, except he could feel it. Like it was emanating heat, although how anything could manage under such circumstances, was beyond belief. He couldn't explain why, but he felt drawn to it... connected to it, somehow. And he couldn't just leave it behind.

It was heavier than he expected. Or perhaps his exhaustion had finally caught up with him. When he made it back to the canoe for the second time, he handed off his prize to Hakoda who tossed it aside. Strong arms lifted Zuko out of the water, and the last thing he saw were blue eyes, swimming with concern as deep as the ocean itself.

* * *

_Katara..._

Her name wasn't spoken, yet it crashed into him like a wave—a harsh whisper, parched and aching. With the pressure of something soft and firm wrapped around him, Zuko thought he was back in his igloo where Katara only visited in the lusty haze of his early morning daydreams. He heard the faint sound of rippling water and could almost feel her body moving above him, commanding her element. He slowly opened his eyes, expecting to meet her half-lidded gaze, but instead found an unforgiving sun beating down from its position high in the sky.

_So, there is no Katara. I'm on a boat with...  
_

Hakoda affirmed this with a weary sigh. "Oh, good. You're awake. You need to drink water."

Confusion gave way to a rise of panic. _Why can't I speak? Why can't I MOVE?  
_

Zuko tried to wriggle himself free, but his entire body froze in protest. Hakoda carefully set down his paddles and reached over to push a skin covering off Zuko's shoulders. As the blanket pooled at his waist, he realized that he wasn't wearing anything underneath. He remembered being pulled out of the water but nothing else after that.

"Your clothes should be dry by now. We have the favor of the noonday sun. Or perhaps you have the favor of the sun god himself. I didn't expect you to make it back there."

Zuko shivered and took the waterskin Hakoda offered. "S-sorry."

"It was just a paddle. It wasn't worth—" There was sadness in his voice and worry etched in his features. Zuko recognized that look—a slight glisten to the eyes, a half-choke in place of words—he'd seen it on his uncle before. _Love._ Mixed with a little disappointment. _  
_

"I never think these things through." Zuko settled on this for an explanation. _It's true. Uncle always says so._

"I find that hard to believe for someone who does so much thinking."

This statement was true, too. Zuko thought a lot. About a lot of things. But at this particular moment, his mind had gone blank.

* * *

Hakoda picked up his paddles and resumed rowing while Zuko absently stroked the lining of the skin that covered him. It was surprisingly warm for being so thin. A different kind of chill ran down his spine. _What animal gave its life to save mine?_

Hakoda was right on cue. "It's polar bear."

"But I thought polar bears were white?"

"Their fur is. Or technically speaking, their fur reflects their surroundings. Their skin is black, so it can absorb the warmth from the sun. Just like the wolves, we only kill polar bears in self defense, and when we do, we make sure to use every part that we can. Their skins are lightweight and offer great warmth, so they are useful for survival."

Zuko nodded in rhythm with the sound of steady rowing. Then it struck him, like a blow from a rescued canoe paddle. It wasn't the bear who saved his life. It was the wolf—the leader of the pack. "Chief Hakoda, thank you. For saving me."

Golden eyes briefly met crystal blue. The look of disappointment was gone, replaced by one of distance.

Hakoda cleared his throat and diverted his gaze. "The mark of the trusted is not about obligation. It is about relationship."

Zuko instinctively touched his forehead, but he suspected that the paint had been washed away when he dove in the ocean. _When I broke his trust...  
_

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Zuko shuddered at the thought of nearly dying and suddenly wanted the polar bear skin _off.  
_

With his intuitive nature, Hakoda understood. "You should get dressed. We'll be back soon. Unless you want to explain to Katara how you ended up naked in a canoe with her father."

Zuko groaned. "We already have to explain to Kanna why all the fish are burnt."

"Actually, Kanna might be interested in the polar bear skin story."

Zuko hoped he didn't mean the part where he was naked. "About it being warm and all that?"

"No. You wearing it."

Zuko didn't want to tell a _polar bear skin story_ , so he made sure he wasn't wearing it anymore. He quickly redressed himself, fur-lined parka and all, then extended his hand, palm side up, to request a paddle.

"What? You wanna dance?" Hakoda's eyes had their signature spark back.

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, I want to row."

"Sit down, Fire Lord. You've done enough for today." He smirked, but his tone was firm.

Zuko let out a noise of frustration. He just wanted to pull his own weight. And he didn't want to be treated like a child. So… he slumped down in the canoe and pouted.

"I think the polar bear suits you."

Zuko folded his arms across his chest and huffed. Just because he'd worn a polar bear skin didn't mean that it suited him.

"Kanna is very superstitious—err, _spiritual_ , I should say. She believes everyone has a spirit animal. Mine is the wolf, as you'd probably guess. The wolf is adaptable, intuitive, and loyal—sometimes to a fault." Hakoda paused and gave Zuko a pointed look. His favor, freely and fiercely given, was starting to make more sense. _  
_

"The polar bear is strong, determined, and enduring," he continued. "But its most defining characteristic is the ability to surrender to its environment. Despite harsh conditions, it still manages to thrive. I think Kanna would find this interesting. It could work to your advantage in gaining her acceptance."

With everything else that had happened that day, Zuko _really_ didn't want to be a polar bear. "Why? Because she wants me to surrender? I'm sure the symbolism there would be quite validating for her, but we're not at war anymore. My approach to peace is not about give-and-take; it's about working together."

"I understand what you're saying. It's not so much a surrender to another person, like in a fight. It's a surrender to oneself. The polar bear blends in. Maybe Kanna just needs to see you making an effort to embrace her culture, that's all."

"I do—" But if Zuko were honest with himself, he had a lot more to learn about their culture before he could claim to respect it. Dating Katara, hunting with Hakoda, and sparring with Pakku wasn't enough to grasp the full depth and beauty of the Water Tribe people.

"I wasn't planning on mentioning it, but Kanna would be interested in your treasure as well," Hakoda added.

_My what?_

"The egg," he clarified.

_The what?_

Hakoda lifted a layer of seal skin from the assortment of gear in between them to reveal an egg-shaped stone. Zuko remembered now. He'd secured the paddle without a problem, but he'd risked his life to retrieve this... _whatever_ it is. Zuko wanted to reach out and touch it, feeling drawn just like he had before, but the wary look on Hakoda's face stopped him.

"Last night was a full moon. Kanna told me that our trip should be successful because it is called the 'fish moon' this time of year," he said. "I joked around with her, because I grew up calling it the 'egg moon' instead."

This was one of the things that fascinated Zuko about the Water Tribes—so many stories with such rich symbolism. Despite feeling indignant before, he desperately wanted to know more.

Hakoda's expression turned grim. "You see, Kanna is from the North, and the 'fish moon' means that an abundance of fish are spawning this time of year. You saw today that we only have a small cove where that happens down here. In the South, we call it the 'egg moon,' and it's a bad omen. If a child is conceived during this moon cycle, he or she will be born in the dead of winter, when the chances of survival are slim."

Zuko's eyes widened. "S-so you're saying that me finding some petrified egg in the ocean is a bad omen?"

"I'm not. I personally don't put that much stake in the meanings of the moons. I'm just warning you. In case Kanna says something."

Zuko shivered, although strangely enough, it was the first time since coming to the South Pole that he actually felt fine. Not too hot, not too cold. _Just right._

As it turned out, Kanna did have something to say about it when they arrived back at the village. She seemed mildly amused by the story of the charred fish. She even smiled when Hakoda mentioned he thought Zuko's spirit animal might be the polar bear. But when she saw the egg, her whole face lit up.

"So, it's true!" She gasped, her gloved hands framing an expression of wonderment. To Zuko, she was almost unrecognizable without her furrowed brow and hardened scowl.

"What, Gran Gran?" Katara tugged at her elbow and looked questioningly at Zuko.

Kanna's eyes sparkled like faceted gemstones. "Have I ever told you about the Legend of Makenna?


	7. Truth Hunt

"So, this Legend of Makenna is that important, huh? That the whole village has to hear it?" Zuko didn't care that he and Katara had been charged with stripping herbs for five flavor soup. He was just grateful to finally spend time with her.  
  
"Gran Gran seems to think so," Katara said. "The Water Tribe will use any excuse to throw a party."  
  
Zuko set aside the strange-smelling green plantlike things. Should he ask about Water Tribe cuisine or what to expect at a Water Tribe gathering? He had so much to learn, after all.  
  
"What happened out there? Where did the egg come from? And seriously, what did you do to all the fish?" Apparently Katara would be the one asking questions.  
  
"Oh, um... so, your dad and I were fishing in the freshwater cove over by the ice dodging course. We actually had to go through the course to get there, so—"  
  
She lightly tapped his forehead. "Did you get a mark?"

He relished the coolness of her touch but didn't register the teasing in her tone. "Huh?"  
  
"For ice dodging. Sounds like my dad was testing you even though I _told him_ not to. So... how did you do?"

"Uh, yeah. The mark of the trusted. But then I broke his trust. I messed up. I burned the fish because—" _I never think things through.  
_

She must've recognized his complete shift of mood. "It's OK, Zuko. I'm sure you did fine. My dad really likes you. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

He appreciated the pass on revisiting his shame. She understood him that way. But with Katara, he felt like he could tell her anything. "Then I accidentally dropped a paddle in the ocean. I figured I could get it... because I swam in the North Pole back whenever... Um, yeah, so when I was underwater, I had this weird feeling. Like an intense heat was pulling at me. It was the egg, and I had to go back for it. It was... it was calling me."

"Zuko, are you sure you're OK?" She gently caressed his cheek.

He sighed but didn't skip a beat. "That's how your Dad ended up saving me... the stuff with the polar bear skin." His face immediately heated as he imagined Hakoda stripping him of his clothes. He turned even redder as he wished they could both strip, right here, right now.

Katara could always read him so well. "You know, it's not fair that he gets you alone and naked when I don't."

Zuko was inclined to agree, although still shaken by awkward feelings he had about the Chief. "Hey, that's just... don't..."

She cut him off with a very insistent kiss. His lips parted to take hers in—he was starved for this.

Of course, kissing in the kitchen had been a risky decision. As soon as they started, Zuko counted on getting caught.

Exaggerated footsteps. Then a fake cough. "Sorry to interrupt, but Kanna wants to have the feast before she tells the Legend of Makenna. Zuko, I need your help carrying all the fish to the festival grounds," Hakoda said.

No one made eye contact. Panic-stricken, Zuko choked out, "Yes, sir."

_Hello, Zuko here. Ruler of the Fire Nation, also known as the lord of awkward._

* * *

Zuko's heart still hammered in his throat, but if he was going to say anything, it was now or never. "I'm sorry, sir. For what happened earlier."

Hakoda stopped mid-stride and shifted the weight of the basket of burnt fish he was carrying. "Sorry for what, Zuko? It's OK to kiss her, you know. I didn't intend to make things awkward. There's just a lot of work to do, that's all."

Zuko could leave it at that, but they both knew he had something else to say. "No, I meant from earlier on the boat. For breaking your trust. I made a bad decision, and you were disappointed in me. I will do better next time."

At this, Hakoda set down his basket, and Zuko, bracing himself, did the same.

"I wasn't disappointed in you, Zuko. I was afraid of losing you. Do you understand the difference? I care about you because of who you are, not what you do."

Zuko nodded even though he didn't understand at all. _Don't my actions define who I am? Or is it the other way around?_

Chief Intuition was right on cue. "It's OK to be confused. You are young and still figuring out who you are. And you will make lots of bad decisions. So, it's important that you learn from your mistakes and try to do better next time, as you say. But don't do it for me. Do it for you. I gave you the mark of the trusted because _I_ trust you, Zuko. But you're a long way from trusting yourself."

"Yes, sir." _I can't very well trust what I do not know._

"It's a lot to take in, Zuko. Trust is a hard thing to build back up when it's been broken."

 _And hard to recognize when I rarely see it._ "I don't want to break yours, sir."

"I know."

Hakoda was smiling at him now, and Zuko _still_ didn't understand. These fatherly vibes—love, concern, trust—felt so foreign to him. Just like with his uncle, he had to travel very far to find them. And in order to receive them, he had to leave something behind.

"I'm sorry about this, too." Zuko pressed a finger to his temple where scarred flesh barely registered the touch. "When I wasn't truthful about..."

Hakoda's smile quickly faded into a deep set frown. "Well, you weren't exactly forthcoming, but you didn't lie. I'm sorry that you had to endure that kind of pain. Nothing you could have done would ever justify—"

"It was to teach respect."

"There is a difference between commanding respect and controlling through fear. One builds while the other tears down."

Of course his father had beaten him down. It's why conversations like this were so hard to process. Zuko deeply respected Chief Hakoda and wanted to say as much, but the right words escaped him at the moment. _  
_

"I saw another scar of yours today," Hakoda redirected. "The one you got when you fought your sister."

"Yes, sir." Zuko eyed the baskets of fish, wishing he could pick one up and start walking away.

"I meant it when I said that I would trust you with my life and the lives of my loved ones. You already proved yourself trustworthy when you took that lightening bolt for Katara. You earned your mark, Zuko."

"Thank you, sir."

"You're still not convinced."

"I'm sorry. I hear what you're saying, I just... I haven't done enough to deserve such an honor."

"In the Water Tribe, honor is not determined in trial by fire. Rather than something you achieve, it is something you pursue."

Zuko closed his eyes and lowered his head. In his case, honor was something he chased. And fire was all he knew.

"OK, let me put it this way." Hakoda placed a hand on Zuko's chest just above his lightening scar. "If there were such a thing as ice dodging in the Fire Nation, _this_ would be your mark of the trusted." He then pointed at the left side his face. "And _that_ would be your mark of the brave."

_If only you knew. I was anything but brave that day._

Even though Zuko saw the wolf-bear hug coming, he was undone by it anyway. _My father never touched me... except when..._

"Are there any other marks?" Zuko asked, genuinely curious, albeit emotionally spent.

Hakoda sniffed. "Yes. There's the mark of the wise."

"Only three?"

"Yes. Because ice dodging is supposed to be done in groups of three. And you receive one of them when you do your part," Hakoda explained. "It's not about performance. It's about accountability."

"What mark did you receive, Chief?"

"I didn't. My father never took me ice dodging." Ice blue eyes turned cold and fierce, and somehow Zuko knew. Hakoda had suffered at the hands of his father, too.


	8. Flesh Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a heads up, this is a smutty chapter.
> 
> Also, a huge shoutout to my first ever and totally awesome beta! Thanks, circasurvival!

After delivering the fish and making sure Hakoda had no further tasks—or advice—for him, Zuko hurried back toward the kitchen, hoping to find Katara there. His breath caught at the sight of her, standing over a large pot of soup with one hand on her hip and the other holding a large wooden spoon. He lingered in the doorway to drink her in—a slight flush to her face, all screwed up in concentration, a mess of cascading curls framing her shoulders, and a deep blue tunic that accentuated her eyes. She stopped stirring and examined the contents of the pot. A frown tugged at her lips... those lush, delicious lips. Zuko licked his, thinking of nothing else but reclaiming their kiss from before... and perhaps something more.

"The roux always takes forever," she huffed.

"Can I help?" Zuko closed the gap between them.

"I finished the tarragon after you left, but still need to strip the thyme."

Zuko assumed she was referring to the pile of herbs on the chopping block. There was no knife within view, so he picked up the whole bunch and plucked off one tiny leaf bud. _So this is thyme, huh? More like... a waste of time._

"No, no. Thyme is different than tarragon. You actually _strip_ it, like this." Katara took one of the stems from him, pinched it with her finger and thumb and slid down, removing all the leaves at once. "It's one fluid motion."

"Got it. Strip it. Stroke it. Then... eat it." He made a small production out of placing the bud on his tongue, pretending to savor it, and smacking his lips. He could see he’d achieved the desired effect by the way her chest now heaved with quickened breaths. And yes, he was shamelessly ogling her breasts.

"It's used for flavor. So it's best if you mix it with—" Their mouths crashed together before she could finish.

With all the emotion and tension built up from the past few days, Zuko was about to combust. Nothing in the Water Tribe felt quite right… except for this. Of course, he cherished everything he had learned so far on this trip, and it wasn’t like he missed the Fire Nation. He just missed… her. It occurred to him in this very moment that no matter where he went, _she_ was home.

He couldn’t convey all this with a simple kiss. His entire body thrummed with need, something akin to hunger. He wanted to— _intended_ to—devour her right now. With the scent of her arousal, he could almost taste her already, along with a twinge of, what was it? _Right. Thyme._

Katara responded fervently by pressing desperate kisses along his jawline and at the pulse point of his neck. Zuko slid his hands down her sides to loosen her tunic and then back up again, brushing his thumbs across sensitive skin.

" _Zukoooooo…_ "

Practiced fingertips moved to her waistband. He knew exactly where he was headed next. He'd have her screaming his name in no time, except...

"What if we get caught?" he rasped.

"I can take care of that." And with a flick of her wrist, she sealed the doorway with a solid block of ice. He imagined shoving her against it and relishing those contrasting hot-and-cold sensations. It wasn't really an igloo, but— _fuck, we're in Gran Gran's hut._

In the time that he hesitated, struck by momentary fear, Katara pinned him to the counter and pushed his pants past his hips. His cock sprang free, and she stroked it experimentally. He bucked into her grip.

"Oh, you want this," she purred.

He really wanted to pleasure her first, but when she knelt down in front of him, her tongue grazing across his tip, he abandoned whatever plan he had.

“Or did you want it like this?” She grinned mischievously before taking him in.

 _Fuck yes._ Wet heat encircled him and intense blue eyes gazed up at him. He leaned back, knees buckling, as a spoon fell off the counter along with something green. She startled at the noise and pulled away, eliciting a small whimper. She eyed the thyme and smirked at him. “Remember, it’s one fluid motion.”

 _Damn._ Zuko would never look at herbs the same again. With the way she kept working him, time—or _thyme_ —was not on his side.

Neither were the gods, apparently.

"Katara, are you in there?"

Zuko cursed whatever Water Tribe deity that kept fucking with his destiny.

She released him with a soft _pop._ Her eyes narrowed toward the door. "GO AWAY, SOKKA!"

"Sokka is here?" Zuko squeaked out. Katara was already refastening her tunic, so he reluctantly redressed himself, too.

"Zuko? Is that you?" The voice from the other side of the ice was unmistakably Sokka's. A pause, before realization set in. "OOOOGIES!"

Katara channeled her annoyance into melting the makeshift doorway with a giant _wooooosh._ Zuko sank to the floor, in part to hide any evidence, and to wallow in his embarrassment.

Sokka stuck his head in, soaked to the bone, and said, "Seriously guys? Get a room!"

But Katara was hovering over her forgotten soup. Zuko groaned.

"I can't believe I ruined the roux!"

* * *

It didn’t take Zuko long to recover with Sokka’s intrusion and Kanna’s appearance soon thereafter to help rescue the roux. Amidst all the commotion, he skirted out the door, casting an apologetic look back at Katara. Fixing the soup must've taken the rest of the afternoon because he couldn't find her when it was time to head to the festival grounds. He had no choice but to join Sokka and Suki after effectively avoiding them and any discussion of the kitchen incident.

"What's that?" He pointed to the basket Suki was carrying, hoping to deter Sokka’s speculation.

"Oh. I brought some yams from Kyoshi. We just got here today. Didn't know there was a big thing planned, so I guess it’s lucky I have them," Suki explained.

"Hey jerkbender!" _Here it comes._

Sokka gave him a playful shove. "You know this Legend of Makenna has to do with the Fire Nation, right?"

Zuko stiffened. Whatever he expected, it wasn’t this.

"Smoke on the water, fire in the sky." Sokka waved an arm for emphasis.

"Fire _and_ the Sky," Hakoda corrected, having appeared out of nowhere to trudge alongside them. "The dragon's name is Sora. It means sky."

"Sora?" Zuko froze in mid-stride. "S-Sozin's dragon?"

"The one and only," Hakoda said grimly.

"Turns out you're not the first Fire Lord to fancy Water Tribe." Sokka elbowed him hard in the ribs.

A little part of him died inside. This was no joke to Zuko. No matter how hard he tried to escape this, his family history always resurfaced, even in the most unlikely of places. Relating _anything_ from Sozin's past would not bode well for diplomatic advancement, and he could kiss any chance he had of winning Kanna's favor goodbye. Epic legend or not, there was no good story to be told about his warmongering great-grandfather. Certainly not one that deserved this much fanfare.

"You coming, Zuko?" Suki shot him a look of pity over her shoulder.

 _No, I'll just sit this one out, thank you_ , he thought bitterly, then rushed to keep up.

The snow began to deepen underfoot as their small caravan reached the edge of the city. Zuko sank in further with each dreaded step, fighting the urge to turn around and run away. A sense of foreboding settled in the pit of his stomach at the overwhelming sight before them—food, decorations, music, _dancing._ This... was a really big deal. Who was this _Makenna_ , anyway? _Do I really want to know?  
_

"Zuko!" Karara called over to him. "Do you mind?" She shifted a large bundle of fabric from one hip to the other and gestured toward a pile of wood. At first, he thought she needed help carrying whatever it was. He reached out toward her and knew at once—the irresistible draw was just as intense as before. As soon as he touched it, the egg jolted. He swore he could feel a pulse. But it vanished as quickly as it came.

"Did you—"

"The fire, Zuko," Katara said, exasperated. "I need you to start the fire."

"Oh."

Zuko had been expressly trying _not_ to firebend while in the South Pole. Partly because he didn't want to be immediately pegged as the enemy, but also fearing he might melt the ice and flood the city or accidentally scorch the dry scraggly trees. Those weren't likely scenarios, but he would have never guessed he would burn all those fish, either.

A child ran by and screamed, caught unaware, when Zuko set the logs aflame. It felt good to firebend again, but like all good feelings Zuko had, it faded quickly. Having done her bidding, he looked to Katara for affirmation, but she was glaring at something just past him.

"I can't believe he's doing that," she muttered.

Zuko turned to see a small group of dancers forming beyond the campfire. Drums and a panflute had struck up a lively tune. _Huh. Who knew Chief Hakoda could dance?_

"Doing what?" he asked indifferently.

"Dancing with _her_."

"Who else would he dance with?"

"No one! Or just not...” Katara said, visibly flustered. “It just looks bad, OK?"

"Actually… it looks like they're having fun. So… do you wanna?" Zuko rubbed the back of his neck, regretting it as soon as he asked. He wasn't particularly confident in his dancing skills. He had a few traditional Fire Nation waltzes under his belt, but obviously had never danced Water Tribe. But he was here to learn, right?

It surprised him, however, that Katara was blushing, too. "Oh, Zuko… I don't know, I'm not very—"

"I was never much of a dancer, either," Kanna said.

Zuko noticed that people had a habit of just popping in out of nowhere. Presumably there was no such thing as privacy here.

"I was always so miserable at those formal affairs in the North Pole," she continued. "But, Katara, there's much more freedom to move as you like in the South, to _express yourself_. So, if the Fire Lord asks you to dance, then—"

"Oh, no, ma'am," Zuko interjected. "If she doesn't want to, then that's fine.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Mmm-hmm.”

“I’m not that good at dancing anyway," he added awkwardly, unsure of how to navigate between honoring Katara's wishes and fulfilling her grandmother's expectations.

Kanna shook her head like she didn't believe him. "Very well, then. Katara, where did you put the egg? It's almost time to begin!"


	9. Tribe Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta, circasurvival, this chapter is better than when I started.

As the sky darkened and the music faded, people started drifting toward the fire to settle on wool blankets and oversized rocks. Zuko didn't even join the feast, his stomach too knotted up to eat. What if this legend reflected so badly on him and his family that the Water Tribe decided to attack? Kanna clearly did not want him here, so this could be her way of exacting revenge. Fear replaced his uneasiness. Guilt then augmented the fear. _It's what I deserve. Someone should answer for what the Fire Nation has done._

He took comfort in one thing—he was not alone. He scanned the crowd until he saw them—a small smattering of red amidst the sea of blue. He hadn't ordered his guards to come, but he was glad they were here of their own accord. He made eye contact with the captain, Ming, a former prison guard his uncle had insisted on promoting. She gave him a resolute nod before turning to speak with someone Zuko recognized as a friend of Hakoda's, but he couldn't place the name. His gaze drifted over to the single speck of green. Suki was huddled closely with Sokka, whispering in his ear. Next to them Hakoda and Malina were engaged in an animated conversation. Hakoda caught Zuko looking and gave him a wink. A spark of reassurance ignited in his chest despite the heaviness that resided there. Hakoda wouldn’t hurt him, not after everything they’d shared on matters of honor and trust. When Katara slipped a gloved hand into his, he sighed in relief at the comfort of her touch. Above all else, he had the love and support of the most powerful waterbender in the world. Their story could be legend someday. Their descendants would remember their mark on history—the union of fire and water. He smiled at the thought.

Kanna seated herself in the center of the circle that had formed. With the egg positioned next to her and the firelight illuminating her weatherworn face, she called everyone to attention. An ominous _hush_ fell over the crowd.

"It has been far too long since the Southern Water Tribe has gathered like this and longer still since the tribes have joined together to celebrate our common heritage," she began.

Flames reflected in her gemstone gaze, raging like the years of injustice this woman had seen, yet also glistening, weary of war and longing for peace. A twig in the fire snapped, and Zuko shuddered, finding no solace in his element whatsoever.

"In recent weeks, the North and the South have come together to help restore and rebuild our tribe here in the South Pole," Kanna continued. "I have heard grumbling and bickering and accusations and suspicions, and it saddens me. We are supposed to be sister tribes, working together, not tearing each other apart. I am even from the North, and I understand we have our differences. Someday I will tell you more of our shared heritage, our common birthplace. Yes, the Legend of the Lion Turtle will be for another day, for tonight we honor the name of Smoke on the Water, the heroine of the 31-Day Siege, Makenna of the Southern Water Tribe."

Zuko heard a collective gasp. Katara inched closer to him on the blanket they shared and squeezed his hand. The 31-Day Siege rang with familiarity, a conquest of Sozin’s that had ended poorly. They didn’t speak of it often in the Fire Nation. Whatever confidence he had built was now lost. Zuko released Katara’s hand and folded his arms across his chest, hoping to keep the bumbleflies flitting about in his stomach at bay. With knobby fingers interlaced in her lap, Kanna cast an unreadable expression toward Zuko and cleared her throat.

"Makenna was a woman of rare beauty. Her name meant _born of fire_ , and many likened her to a volcano, prone to outbursts. Because of her fiery spirit, no tribesman would court her or seek her companionship. She always felt different from her people. She felt misunderstood and alone. And it was true. She was different. It was rare for someone from the Water Tribe to have the spirit of the dragon, but Makenna did. A greater purpose burned within her, and one day, her story took flight. Because one day, Makenna met a dragon.

“The Fire Nation attack on our tribe was relentless. Rumor had it that Fire Lord Sozin led the ruthless faction himself. Our warriors were able to hold their own, but after an entire moon cycle of fighting, our forces were growing threadbare and weak. Makenna felt an irresistible drawn to the Fire Nation camp, a summoning, as she described it. She did not heed the warriors' warning to steer clear, and since she often wandered alone anyway, no one missed her presence in the village.

“This is when Makenna first met Sora, Fire Lord Sozin's dragon. Some say that Sora was Makenna’s actual spirit animal, much like the guides of Avatars past. In fact, Sora herself was connected to Fang, Avatar Roku’s dragon and spirit guide. Sora and Fang once represented the bond between Sozin and Roku… until it was tragically broken, consumed by fire along with the rest of the world.

“As newly kindred spirits, Sora confided in Makenna her heartbreak over the loss of her companion, Fang, whose fate suffered the wrath of a volcano. Sora now sought the reincarnated Avatar, her bridge to the spirit world, hoping to reconnect with his past life and her lost love. She confessed with great remorse that her own quest for the Avatar had guided Sozin here as well. After destroying the Air Nation, and presumably the new Avatar with it, he ventured to do the same here in the Water Tribe.

“With the spirit of the dragon burning fiercely inside her, Makenna knew she had a place, _a calling_ , within their story. She devised a plan to revive Sora's spirit, fulfill Sozin's mission, and save her people. With her electrifying beauty and her powerful dragon spirit, she seduced Sozin, convincing him that the child they conceived together would be the next Avatar. She did this in full knowledge that she would have to leave the Water Tribe to go live as Sozin’s companion, but at least her people would be safe. And Sora would be with her in the Fire Nation.

“And so Makenna gave birth to a child, born of fire, the promised successor in the Avatar’s line. In the wake of the boy’s anticipated arrival, Sora revealed a long-kept secret—all this time, she had carried Fang’s egg, awaiting the Avatar’s return and with it, the hope for reconciliation. Having fulfilled her purpose on earth, Sora entrusted the care of her egg to Makenna and resumed her quest to join Fang in the spirit world. When the egg hatched, she said, the two offspring would be forever bonded through the spirit of the dragon, just like their mothers.

“By this point, Sozin was an embittered old man. He had lost his taste for war and only wanted the warmth of Makenna in his bed. While she had hoped to return home some day, her life was comfortable and easy in the Fire Nation, even with Sora gone. She bore him another child, but Sozin shunned the second to live in his brother’s shadow. Makenna overlooked the misdeeds of an aging madman, counting on the Fire Lord’s death before their older son would show signs of being the Avatar... or not. The boy was tested with the ancient relics much earlier than tradition warranted—before he displayed any bending ability at all. The court officials had always been wary of the Water Tribe woman in their midst. Dragon child or not, he resembled his mother too much for their comfort.”

Kanna paused for the first time since starting her story, her lips forming a thin line. Zuko and Katara shared a knowing glance. Sadly, not much had changed since then. The Fire Nation court still opposed their lord courting an outsider—claiming the purity of the lineage must be preserved, especially since royal heirs were expected to be prodigy firebenders, starting around age three.

As Zuko pondered this, a thought struck him. _Is Makenna my great grandmother?_

The firelight now dimmed and darkness crept in around them. Zuko felt numb from cold or dread… or both. With her face cast in flickering shadows, Kanna’s breath lingered as puffs of steam in the night air.

“But Fire Lord Sozin outlived them all,” she continued with a labored sigh. “When the Fire Sages confirmed that the boy was not the Avatar, Sozin killed his own son at the mere age of three. Wrought with grief, Makenna took Sora's egg and escaped for the Water Tribe, leaving their other child behind. A spitting image of Sozin, he was more Fire Nation than she could bear. Without the shared spirit of the dragon, she could only see him as a living reminder of the sacrifice she had to make to keep the peace.

“Makenna almost made it home, but a thick fog on the water impeded her journey. With little to no visibility, she struggled against the waves, crashed into an iceberg, and went plunging into the sea. A fishing crew found her boat, a small Fire Nation vessel, just as the gray clouds lifted the next morning. Her body was never found, so this is why we call her Smoke on the Water. Her dragon spirit dwells in the early morning mist where she mourns the loss of her son."

Kanna closed her eyes and lowered her head. A melancholy silence settled over the crowd save for an occasional sigh or sniffle. Zuko shifted nervously, unable to shake a restless energy that now surged through him. The feeling wasn't altogether unfamiliar, though—like an intense heat, untouchable but not unbearable. A pulse, no... _a pull?_ The source of life, but alight with longing.

_It's like the sun but inside of you._

The realization hit Zuko so hard that he looked around frantically, expecting to see an actual dragon in their midst. _No, not a dragon..._ _i_ _t’s the—_

Kanna's eyes shot open. "The egg was never found, either. Until today."

"Wha-what? So, you're saying that this is… the dragon egg? S-sora's egg?" Zuko stared back at her in disbelief. His mind reeled with so many questions, but this one was the most pressing.

"That is precisely what I'm saying," Kanna said.

"It can't be!"

"And why not? Chief Hakoda told me where you found it. Not far from where the glaciers jut out in the sea. The location is right. It’s like no other egg I’ve seen.”

“But—"

“And the fact that _you_ found it, Fire Lord Zuko, should be confirmation enough. If you need further proof, touch it again. Feel the heat. Feel the power. You know the story is true, because it is in you, too."

" _In me?_ What's in me?" Zuko wished that he knew, because in this moment, Kanna didn’t seem to hate him as much as he thought. He searched both Hakoda and Katara for some sign of understanding, but judging from their expressions, they were just as clueless as he was.

Kanna shook her head and smiled. "Your spirit animal is not the polar bear, although I did find the story from today's fishing trip quite amusing."

Zuko was truly grateful that she was smiling and not threatening to kill him like he feared. But he hadn’t planned on an audience for this. Couldn't he gain Kanna’s favor without all the fuss and fanfare? He was not prepared for what she said next.

"Your spirit animal embodies strength and courage. You are powerful, but not power-seeking. Your purpose is not to control, but to reconcile. You are fire, but you do not burn and destroy. Instead, you are fire that rekindles and restores. I told this story tonight because the legend lives on... in you. Fire Lord Zuko, you, too, are the spirit of the dragon."

 


	10. Man Hunt

Clouds settled low on the arctic waters creating a dense fog. With the sticky sea air clinging to his skin, Zuko peered over the side of the boat and frowned at his own reflection in the gray abyss below. A red angry scar scowled back a him, the mark of a father's wrath. Yet, on his forehead, a smudged black arc spoke of another father's love. One he deserved, the other he did not. He tried to swallow past the lump forming in his throat.

A distant voice called for help. Zuko looked around frantically but couldn't see anything beyond the smoke on the water surrounding him. Piercing blue eyes suddenly appeared, hovering in air, as a whisper tickled his ear.

_Please, save my son. Please, Fire Lord Zuko, it has to be you._

Zuko awoke with a jolt, acutely aware of a sickly clamminess and a burning sensation in the back of his throat. He blinked rapidly as if willing himself to return to reality, although the scenes from his sleep lingered with unusual intensity. What did it mean? Was he supposed to save someone? Or had everything from the past few days been a dream?

When a warm body stirred beside him, he figured he _had to be_ dreaming. There was no way Kanna would let Katara join him in his igloo. Yet, instead of laying supine between layers of fur, he was in a bed, tangled up with woolen blankets and smooth bronze legs. He rolled toward her just in time to see her eyes flutter open.

"Feeling better?" Katara asked, squinting at the shimmering morning light.

Zuko saw the sun reflected on her face but also felt it in his veins. He took in his surroundings, half-expecting Katara to disappear and his igloo to materialize at any minute. When it didn't, he answered with a shiver, "I feel f-fine, why?"

"You kinda passed out last night. Gran Gran says it was probably the shock of the cold water finally catching up to you."

"Oh." He didn't remember that. The last thing he remembered was Kanna saying something about the spirit of the dragon. He'd been shocked, sure, but more so by the fondness in Kanna's voice. _Does that mean she doesn't hate me anymore? I must've dreamed that part, too.  
_

"We brought you back here, and I did a healing session," Katara explained. "Then Gran Gran told me to look out for you."

"Oh." He seriously doubted this dragon spirit business, but wouldn't look a gift-ostrich-horse in the mouth. Katara was here beside him, in the flesh. _And in just her bindings... hmm._ A tingle rippled down his spine, much more chilling than yesterday's swim. _We'll have to take care of that.  
_

"This is one of the new apartment buildings that's part of the reconstruction project," Katara continued, taking no notice of the molten fervency in his eyes. "It's nice enough, I guess. We're pretty high up, so my favorite part is the view. Come on, I'll show you."

When she stood and edged away from him, Zuko suppressed a pang of disappointment.

She caught his gaze and nodded in understanding. They'd shared a bed enough times to read each other well. With a coy smile, she picked up something off the floor and slipped it on— _his_ tunic—because she knew that would drive him crazy. Then without warning, she walked over and opened the window, allowing a rush of cold air in the room. Zuko pulled the blanket up to his chin in protest and started warming himself, his inner fire already sparked with desire.

"Come and see," she beckoned.

Zuko reluctantly joined her at the window with the blanket draped across his back. He was still wearing his pants—with a growing bulge inside them—and she had his shirt, of course. The view _was_ breathtaking, but he was decidedly more concerned about enjoying the view right here before him. He slipped an arm around her waist and lightly nipped at the soft skin in the dip of her shoulder.

She leaned into him. "Mmmm. How are you always so warm, dragon boy?"

A growl rumbled low in his throat in part-arousal, part-annoyance. No, the dragon spirit did not need to become _a thing_... in the bedroom or otherwise. _Two can play at this game..._

"Oh yeah?" he murmured into the crook of her neck. "What's your spirit animal, then?"

Her reaction was immediate and altogether unexpected. "Oh, it's nothing special." She started to push away from him. "Just some bird."

With a red tunic discarded carelessly to the floor, a flash of bare skin, and a whirlwind of blue fabric, she was dressed.

"Katara, I'm—"

"I've gotta help Gran Gran with breakfast. Especially now that Sokka's appetite has arrived." With that, she grabbed a parka and headed out the door before Zuko could say another word.

* * *

When Zuko arrived at Kanna's hut, the air was thick with the smell of smoked salmon along with a heaping portion of tension. Zuko made eye contact with Katara from across the room, yet stayed rooted in the entryway in case he needed to make a quick getaway. A family squabble was afoot, that much he could tell. At least, no one's anger was directed at him for a change.

“But appearances _do_ matter!” Kanna said, shaking a wooden spoon in Hakoda's direction. “And as the chief, you should consider what this looks like from a political standpoint as well as ethical.”  
  
“To some extent, I can agree that one should not mix business with pleasure,” Hakoda said through gritted teeth. “But I don’t see anything _unethical_ about me dating Malina. And I assure you, it does not affect any business dealings with the North.”  
  
“I’m not saying it does, but people talk. _Your_ people, Hakoda.”  
  
“There will always be talk. It’s what people do, Kanna.”  
  
“It’s not that you shouldn’t date each other. But wait until after the construction project. It would just… look better.”  
  
“I don’t care what it looks like, and I don’t care what people say!” Hakoda snapped.  
  
“Oh, come on now, you _do_ care,” Kanna retorted. “It's blatant conflict of interest. Start thinking with your head instead of your—“  
  
“That’s it. I’m done here. I have work to do.” He took several determined strides toward the door, stopping short when he saw Zuko standing there. He softened, almost to the point of smiling.  
  
“Good morning, Zuko! How are you feeling?"  
  
"Much better, thanks," Zuko replied.

"If you're feeling up to it, Sokka and I are going hunting later. I know how much you love hunting," he said with a wink.

"Y-yeah, sure. Thank you, sir."

Almost as soon as the chief left, Sokka and Suki arrived at the door.

"Hey there dragonbender!" Sokka crashed into him with the force of a bear. Apparently Water Tribe always greeted with a hug. _Like father, like son._

Suki simply nodded and smiled, her eyes drifting toward an object that Zuko hadn't noticed until now. The egg sat nestled in a pile of furs, obviously positioned with care.

"Do you think it will hatch?" Suki asked.

"Naw." Sokka waved his hand dismissively. "It's been frozen for a hundred years."

"Aang was frozen for a hundred years," Katara added with a shrug.

At this, Zuko's breath hitched. _She has a point. Maybe there really is a dragon in there._ For the first time since this egg mess started, he allowed himself to hope.

As if on cue, Kanna reappeared from the kitchen, still holding a wooden spoon. "Only the spirit of the dragon knows the fate of what lies within." Zuko felt her eyes boring into him. He glanced doubtfully back at the egg, the weight of expectation settling on his shoulders. _Am I supposed to do something with it?_

"Yeah, yeah, the dragon spirit's cool and all," Sokka interjected. "But that's nothing compared to the almighty eagle hawk!"

He spread his arms and started flapping them around the room, making a screeching noise that sounded more like a quailchicken than a hawk. Zuko welcomed the diversion, though.

Katara scowled in disapproval at her brother's antics, but when Zuko caught her eye, she immediately looked away. Reflecting on her response earlier that morning, he wondered what was so wrong with having a bird for a spirit animal.

* * *

Zuko could tell Hakoda was still agitated when they met up later for hunting. He also sensed some tension between father and son, but he wasn't sure. As they walked, Sokka just babbled nonstop in his typical dramatic fashion. Once they had trekked beyond the tundra, Hakoda pressed on ahead into the scrubby underbrush, leaving several paces between himself and the other two.

"There wasn't that much to do on Kyoshi Island," Sokka told Zuko. "I trained with the girls, of course, but then they wanted me to show them something Water Tribe. A few of them could get the hang of the ole boomerang, but it takes special handling, you know. So, I taught them how to do the warpaint. Because they already wear the makeup and stuff. Spirits, they made me wear it, remember?"

Zuko did remember the last time he visited Kyoshi Island along with some vague recollection of Sokka wearing a dress.

"Well, this made Suki mad!" Sokka continued with incredulity. "I have no idea why, I mean, sometimes I wear the warpaint when we, uhh… yeah, because she likes that sort of thing, but I didn't think she would—"

Sokka let out a high-pitched yelp when Hakoda rounded on them suddenly. He was only a few inches from his son's face when he spoke, a low growl in his throat. This was a different side to the wolf, one that Zuko had not seen before.

"Sokka! What is the first rule of hunting?"

"Uhh, never aim your weapon at something you don't intend to kill?"

"OK, fine. What's the second?"

"Never give away your position."

"Right. So for once, can you just BE QUIET!"

"Of course, Chief. Sorry if I chased away your prey, sir." Sokka's mocking tone did not go unnoticed.

Hakoda stared hard at his son before turning around and walking away without another word. Zuko shuddered. __If looks could kill...__

As he listened to dry twigs crunch underfoot, he was struck by such uncharacteristic behavior for Hakoda—and well, Sokka, too. _What is going on here?_

Sokka leaned over and whispered, "Don't mind him. He's just mad because Gran Gran doesn't like Malina and thinks they're dating for the wrong reasons. They had a fight about it this morning, apparently. Something about appearances and—"

"ENOUGH!" Hakoda was in their space again. Zuko took a few shaky steps backward, but Sokka squared his shoulders and held his ground.

"If you've got something to say to me, _son_ , then _say it_ ," Hakoda growled.

"Well, I'm on Gran Gran's side, and it sounds like she summed it up already."

"There are no _sides_ , Sokka. We are family. And I love Malina. It doesn't matter where she's from, she should be accepted into our family. Just like Suki. Just like Zuko. Just like Pakku. But for some reason, you and Katara and Kanna have a problem with her, so yes, of course, I'm _mad_."

Zuko thought that if they did end up choosing sides, he was with Hakoda. He hadn't considered how hard it was for Malina, only knowing a little about the interaction between the northern and southern tribes.

"But do you really love her, Dad? Or just the idea of her?" Sokka countered. "She comes in with all these great ideas for buildings…which are super cool, so I get it. And she builds you up as a leader. Maybe you just love the success she represents?"

"I'm not sure where you get off telling me how to recognize true love, son. It's not like you know her. You haven't been here. And since you don't plan to stay, I guess you have your life, and I have mine."

"That doesn't sound like you, Dad. Just a minute ago you said we don't take sides. What about family? What about the tribe?"

Hakoda folded his arms across his broad chest, assuming the bear stance. "Oh, _now_ you want to talk about the tribe?"

Sokka raised his hands in resignation. "So, we're back to that again?"

Zuko was starting to catch on to the underlying issue in this conversation.

With two pairs of blue eyes staring each other down, several seconds of strained silence passed before Sokka spoke again. "Is that what Malina is for, then? Because you need another heir?"

Zuko winced at the disdain that dripped from Sokka's tone and looked swiftly to Hakoda, expecting him to explode.

But, he didn't. Instead, his voice was full of pain. "No, Sokka. That thought never crossed my mind. I've always known the tribe leadership would pass to you, ever since you were born. I won't lie and say I'm not disappointed, but I'm proud of you, too. Suki is a wonderful young woman, and I know you'll do great things together... in Kyoshi or this _Republic City_ you've envisioned. It's just going to take me a while to accept it. But I'm willing to try. So, do you think you could—"

"Yeah, Dad. I'll play nice with Malina. As long as I don't have to call her  _Mom_."

"Of course not. There's only one person who will ever be called that, and spirits, Sokka, I loved her, too. And I love you."

Zuko watched them wide-eyed, feeling like an intruder. They were deep enough into the forest by now that he couldn't go anywhere else without getting lost. When Hakoda and Sokka became a mess of hugs and tears, he suppressed a cough, wondering if they'd forgotten he was still here. _Gah. These Water Tribe folk are so touchy feely._

Zuko honestly didn't know how to process the whole father-son exchange he'd just witnessed. He tried to imagine what would happen if he had spoken to his own father that way. _What did happen..._

But before Zuko could entertain the thought any further, he got pulled into their bear-wolf-hawk embrace.

"Sorry, Zuko. Not much of a hunt so far, is it?" Hakoda clapped him on the back.

Zuko stepped back to regain his footing and cleared his throat. "Not every hunt is about the kill?"

"That's nonsense talk right there!" Sokka interjected. "I gotta get me some meat!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My geography of the South Pole is not so much based on the real life one, but rather the one portrayed in Legend of Korra (where we get to see a little more of it than AtLA). There is a forest, of sorts, that encircles the spirit portal, and in my mind, this is where Sokka, Zuko, and Hakoda are hunting right now.
> 
> And as always, thanks for beta-ing, circasurvival!


	11. Blood Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shout-out to my beta, circasurvival!

After some time, Sokka, the self-proclaimed _eagle hawk hunter extraordinaire_ had snagged two foxrabbits and a quailchicken. Hakoda had taken on the role of scouting while Zuko simply tried not to burn down the forest in his frustration. He couldn’t wield a boomerang to save his life and lacked accuracy with the spear. _If only I had my dao swords…_

Sokka’s insistent teasing of _the almighty dragon lord who couldn’t catch a bumblefly_ made Zuko grateful he didn’t have a brother. Although he remembered wanting to trade his sister many times throughout their childhood. At least Sokka’s brand of teasing was well meaning, not inherently cruel like hers had been.

 _Oh, Azula._ Zuko thought of her back home in the asylum. He had forgotten to at least say goodbye before they left for the South Pole. He vowed to write her a letter as soon as he could, if there was an eagle hawk strong enough to make the journey.

 _Eagle hawk, hmm_ … They were more than just messenger birds—both wicked fast and crazy smart—they were often used by the Fire Nation military for their endurance and reliability. Zuko looked curiously at Sokka who was dangling a foxrabbit by the scruff of its neck and tickling its ears.

“Do you always play with your food?” Zuko scoffed.

“Hey, the happier they are, the better the meat!” Sokka replied indignantly.

“How could it be happy? You’re about to kill it and eat it!”

Visibly affronted, Sokka responded just as Zuko expected. “You’re just jealous because you don’t have—“

There was a bout of petulant shoving and inelegant struggling before both of them nearly tripped over Hakoda squatting near the ground. The foxrabbit freed itself from Sokka’s clutches and frantically hopped away.

“Aww man, there goes my afternoon snack,” Sokka whined.

“Shhh!” Hakoda held up a hand and pointed with the other to the trail of blood he had been examining. “Wolf," he said with certainty. "Probably got in a fight. It's hurt. I should go find it and put an end to its suffering."

He stood abruptly and squinted at the mid-afternoon sun. "You two stay around here. Cook up the other foxrabbit if you get hungry. Or try to catch some more if you can.” He winked at Zuko then gestured toward a point in the sky, just above the horizon. “If I'm not back by the time the sun reaches here, then head back to the village, and I'll meet you there."

Sokka shook his head. "No way, Dad. We're going with you. What if you find a whole pack of wolves instead?"

"I won't. They go off to die alone."

"That's… sad," Zuko said.

"It's a… pride thing," Hakoda explained with a familiar distant expression. It was the same look he’d given Zuko after saving his life. Zuko surmised it was less about pride and more about fear. Hakoda took great pride in caring for his tribe, and his greatest fear was losing the people he loved. Even from such seemingly offhanded phrases, Zuko was learning a lot about the wolf today.

Once Hakoda had disappeared among the trees, Sokka held the other foxrabbit in front of Zuko. "How about it, jerkbender? I like mine roasted if you don't mind."

Zuko folded his arms across his chest. “That one’s not happy enough to eat.”

* * *

Despite his earlier objections, Sokka was perfectly content taking a break from hunting to lounge around and wait. He ate every last piece of meat off the bone, the sound of his smacking lips grating on Zuko’s nerves. Being at a standstill like this put Zuko on edge. It went against his instincts in stealth and military training. Zuko needed to _do_ something to release the tension, but he wouldn't dare firebend here, not with so much dry scraggly brush around. Sokka leaned up against a stump, pulled the hood of his parka over his eyes, and declared it naptime. Exasperated, Zuko picked up the spear, positioned himself, and found his mark on a nearby tree.

"So, how does it feel to be a _man_ now that you've been ice dodging?"

Taken aback, Zuko lost his footing and sent the spear flying wildly past its target. "What?"

"I heard my dad took you ice dodging. Welcome to the tribe, brother."

"Uhh, thanks. I guess." There was definitely something off about Sokka's tone.

"I never got to do it. Not with Dad at least. Bato took us, but it’s not the same…"

 _Ah, that explains it._ "I’m sorry, Sokka. For what it’s worth, he didn't technically take me ice dodging. We just went through the course, so we could get to the better fishing on the other side."

"But he gave you a mark anyway, didn't he?"

"Oh. Yeah, he did."

"That's the thing. When you get your mark, you become a brother— _a man_. I don't think Dad will ever see me as anything but a child."

"Well, it's different for me, I think, since I'm the Fire Lord. Even without the mark, it’s important that we trust each other as world leaders. You're his son, so…"

"Yup, always will be."

Zuko didn't know what else to say, so he set off to retrieve the misfired spear. He wished he could somehow convey to Sokka that he was so lucky to have a father like Hakoda. If anything, Zuko should be jealous of Sokka and the bond he shared with his father, not the other way around. All those times that Hakoda had called him _son_ , it had been such a great feeling…

_Except… he hasn't called me that in a while._

Zuko tried to think back to the last time Hakoda had called him _son_. It was right after they completed the ice dodging course, before he had received the mark of the trusted. If what Sokka was saying was true, about the acceptance as a brother and initiation as a man, then did their relationship really change when the paint touched his forehead? Was the symbolism there more than skin deep?

Because another mark on another day certainly changed a relationship—and the course of history, in fact. Zuko wouldn't deny there was great power in such things he didn't understand—destiny, like the one he sought after for so many years; legends, like the one that explained a dragon egg in the middle of the ocean; and fate, like the end of the war and balance of the world resting in the reincarnation of a 12-year-old airbender.

_The next Avatar would be Water Tribe._

"S-sokka?"

"Man, I was just about to fall asleep."

"Sorry. But I was just wondering... could an Avatar be the next chief... or chieftess of your tribe?"

"I dunno, why? You planning to come back in a hundred years to hunt them down, too?”

The joke was a low blow. Zuko’s palm heated the shaft of the spear to the point of smoking as he spoke through gritted teeth, “Nevermind. Just forget it.”

“Whoa, settle down there Sparky.” Sokka eyed him warily. “Since you’re all chummy with my dad now, why don’t you just ask him about the next chief? Who knows? Maybe it could be you!”

Zuko gripped his hair in frustration. "No! I didn’t mean… Look, I'm sorry if it bothers you. Your dad is… really great. I’ve never… he just… oh, fuck it. You wouldn’t understand anyway."

Sokka pushed himself to a standing position so he could look Zuko in the eyes, his hands spread in a placating gesture. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. I was just kidding."

"Somehow I think you weren't."

"So things are just tense with me and Dad right now. I didn't mean to take it out on you. It has nothing to do with you, OK?"

"You call that _tense_? He said he was disappointed but also proud of you in the same fucking sentence. And then he said he loved you. Do you know what I would give for… how hard I worked for… rrr-rah!" Zuko drew back the spear and launched it at the tree, hitting his mark dead on.

"Nice shot, dragon man." Sokka flashed his characteristic grin, but Zuko only scowled back at him.

"Eee-yeah, so I'm sorry your dad is an evil slug-sucking megalomaniac… who sucks slugs… and spits them out so he can suck them some more,” Sokka redirected. “Whenever you need a helping of, I dunno, extra _fatherliness_ , then my dad’s your guy. Just know that it always comes with a side of advice."

Zuko sighed, weary of fighting. "Yeah, I've noticed."

“An Avatar for chief would be pretty badass,” Sokka conceded after a beat.

Zuko shrugged. “I only just thought of it as a possible solution to your problem. Since you don’t want to be chief, and your dad doesn’t have any other heirs.”

“It bites that Aang would have to die first, though.” Sokka stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Hey! Katara could be chief! She’s plenty bossy!”

“ _Katara_ is going to be the Fire Lady,” Zuko corrected.

“Yeah, if the Fire Lord ever gets around to asking her,” Sokka said with a smirk.

True, Zuko hadn’t quite figured that out, but he didn’t want to talk about it right now. “Hey, where _is_ your dad?”

The sun was already teasing at the skyline, well past the agreed-upon position, yet neither of them felt right about going back to the village without trying to find Hakoda first.

“The easiest thing to do is to follow the wolf's trail,” Sokka said as he surveyed the ground.

Zuko stayed close behind, admittedly impressed by Sokka's tracking skills. They pushed past tangled branches and thickening scrub until they reached a clearing where an unnerving scene greeted them.

"So, it looks like there was a struggle here.” Sokka pointed a shaky finger at a muddle of bloodstained snow. “And then a new blood trail starts… here." He let out an audible gasp.

They both exchanged worried glances before taking the new trail at a sprint, following streaks and smudges of red, eerily stark against the pristine white beneath.

"The drag pattern in the snow means that Dad is hurt," Sokka panted. “His leg, probably.”

They found Hakoda resting against a tree with a wolf's body draped across his shoulders.

"Dad!"

"I'm OK, Sokka. Just taking a break."

"You don't look OK."

Zuko concurred that Hakoda was definitely _not_ OK. The bloody leg was bad. _Really_ bad. Mostly, he saw mottled red pooling around jagged flesh and torn fabric. But the paleness in Hakoda's face and shortness of his breath meant they didn’t have much time before he passed out. Zuko made a quick mental note that the best hunting party would include Hakoda for fighting, Sokka for tracking, and Katara for healing.

As if reading his mind, Sokka said, "We’ve gotta get you to a healer, Dad."

Zuko nodded emphatically in agreement. _He needs Katara._

They hoisted him up, supporting him from both sides, and awkwardly shuffled away. Zuko stiffened when the dead wolf’s head rolled over onto his shoulder. He glanced briefly into its vacant eyes, thinking of Hakoda’s words. _They go off to die alone._

Hakoda would have died alone, too. _Why did he tell us to go back instead of finding him?_

"It was a snow leopard,” Hakoda bit out with a grimace. “She was circling the injured wolf, waiting to feed. I spooked her, and she ran off into the forest."

As if on cue, a menacing _yeowl_ filled the damp evening air. Sokka and Zuko instinctively picked up their speed, suddenly more adept at coordinating their feet. Hakoda grunted in pain at the quickened pace.

The telltale sounds of a hunter on the prowl grew louder. Zuko looked back and caught a glimpse of the snow leopard, weaving back and forth between the trees.

Sokka saw her, too. "C-can't we just leave the wolf here, and she'll leave us alone?"

"No," Hakoda said firmly. "She's a predator. She'd much prefer the thrill of the hunt."

"So, what do we do?” Sokka asked, panicked. “We can't outrun her. Not like this."

Zuko was already forming a plan. "This is what you do," he said calmly. "You two go to the village as fast as you can. And send back a waterbender. I'm going to fight her off with fire, but I can't guarantee I won't burn the trees in the process."

Hakoda started to protest, fear flashing in his eyes, but when the leaves rustled too closely behind them, Sokka pulled his father along with a yelp. "Good plan, good plan!"

As the others moved on, Zuko lit a flame in his palm and turned to face the wild cat. In a word, she was mesmerizing—radiant blue eyes and silvery spotted fur—so much that Zuko tripped over an exposed tree root, losing both his footing and his fire. He broke his fall with outstretched hands, but his knee crashed into the ground with an angry _crack._

 _Shit. I’m gonna die!_   

The snow leopard started closing in while Zuko crouched on all fours, scrambling to summon his fire once more.

 _Yeowl._ She spat at the flame in his hand and retracted. For a split second longer, Zuko marveled at her beauty before lurching to his feet, waving his arms, and shouting at her. With that, she turned and ran back into the darkening thicket.

_Huh. That was easier than I thought it would be._

Most animals were scared of fire, but he wondered if she had ever seen it before. She must be native to the South Pole with those characteristic blue eyes and fur that reflected the snow. Not in the same way as a polar bear, though. With Hakoda’s description of her predatory nature, Zuko hoped he never met someone who had the spirit of the snow leopard.

He started heading back to the village— _or was it a city now?_ He didn’t expect to run into Malina of all people along the way.

"I heard... you needed... a waterbender," she said, trying to catch her breath.

Zuko slowed his pace since the sense of urgency had passed. It was only then that he remembered his injured knee. "Oh, yeah, thanks. I'm good.” He winced unconvincingly. “I thought I might need some fire control, but no worries. Did you see Hakoda?"

Malina frowned at him. "He's the one who sent me. He's with Katara now.” She surveyed the blood seeping through his pant leg and added, “Sorry. I'm not a healer even though I'm from the North."

Zuko noticed her dejected tone and offered a smile by way of comfort. "Hey, it's OK. I'm not a power-hungry imperialist even though I'm from the Fire Nation."

Malina laughed softly. "Yeah, I know. You're like a dragon with super powers. I was there last night."

Zuko let out a fake cough. "Hardly."

"I’m glad it’s easier for you," she added. "To fit in around here." Her own struggle with fitting in was left unspoken.

Nothing usually came easy for Zuko, but with Kanna’s sudden change of heart, it did seem like Katara's family more readily accepted him. _What is the problem with Malina, then?_

"I think it will just take time." He settled on this for an answer.

She sighed. "I guess. It's just… hard."

"Hey, for what it's worth, Chief Hakoda really loves you. He’d take on the tribe for you. I heard him say as much, so if you love him, too, then stick it out even if it's hard. It'll be worth it."

Because that was one thing Zuko had learned when things didn't come easy for him. He just had to work harder.


	12. Bird Hunt

When Zuko and Malina arrived at Gran Gran's hut, Sokka answered the door wearing bloody gloves and a crimson-stained apron. Malina gasped and gripped Zuko's elbow so tightly, he thought she might fall if he didn’t support her.

Sokka quirked a brow, but then nodded as comprehension dawned. "It’s just quailchicken," he said. "Gran Gran wants me to make soup."

“Oh, what a relief!” Malina waved a hand in front of her face and made a breathy fluttering sound as if she’d gotten overheated. Sokka rolled his eyes and stepped aside for them to enter.

"How is he?" Zuko asked.

Kanna emerged from the archway that separated the kitchen from the main room. "He's been through worse."

“How can we help?”

Kanna’s forehead furrowed. “Katara is finishing up. Sokka is fixing the soup. And then the chief should rest.”

“Well, I want to see him!” Malina declared, her hands moving to her hips.

Jewel tone eyes glinted like ice. “You’re not a healer, _dear_ … and not even family.” Kanna added that last part under her breath. She turned to address Zuko, her features still hardened. “If you want to be helpful, then get us some kindling and start a fire.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Zuko replied, more than grateful for something to do. He skirted around Malina, dodging the daggers she stared in Kanna’s direction.

“ _Excuse me,_ ” Malina said through gritted teeth. “I may not be _family_ , but Koda asked me to come see him after I helped Fire Lord Forest Fire.”

Kanna smiled sweetly and tilted her head toward Zuko. “Why don’t you go help him, then?”

Zuko could take a hint. “Err—right. I don’t remember where the wood pile is. Malina, would you mind showing me?” His eyes darted toward the door, silently advising that she should leave the wolf’s den with him or else get eaten alive.

Malina shot Kanna a departing glare. “Of course, Fire Lord Forgetful.”

_What is up with the nicknames?_ For someone who wanted to fit in, her feistiness wasn’t earning any points in her favor. Then again, most Water Tribe women Zuko knew were feisty… and determined… and stubborn. Zuko thought back to the standoff between Katara and her grandmother that first night at dinner and how Pakku conveniently avoided the matter. And with the heated discussion from this morning, Hakoda had been firm with Kanna but also quick to retreat.

So, in this very obvious power struggle between the matriarch and the new girlfiend, neither of them planned to back down without a fight. Zuko had earned favor in this family by simply being submissive. He’d also tried hard to be adaptive and teachable. _Maybe I really am like a polar bear._

“Yoo hoo!” Malina snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Where did the dragon go?”

_Huh. I wonder what her spirit animal is?_

“The wood pile’s this way,” Malina said before Zuko could take too many steps in the wrong direction.

He turned on his heal and pulled up his fur-lined hood to shield against the biting twilight wind.

“You really didn’t know where it was?” she asked incredulously.

Zuko shrugged. “I haven’t been here as long as you.”

“Right.” Malina’s lips formed a thin line, her gaze suddenly trained on the horizon as if disappearing daylight made a particularly fascinating spectacle.

In the absence of the sun, Zuko felt a wave of tiredness wash over him. He debated on what to say as he listened to the soft crunch of snow under their boots and the distant sounds of the tribe settling in for the night. He wanted to help Malina but was ridiculously out of his league when it came to relationship advice. In many ways, he understood what she was going through—how it felt to be ostracized, even _hated_ for circumstances beyond one’s control, yet somehow finding love in the midst of it. He wouldn’t be here— _or alive_ , for that matter—if it weren’t for Katara. Malina should just stick with Hakoda, and he’ll see her through. Zuko couldn’t advise where Kanna was concerned, still dumbstruck by her sudden change of heart. He just hoped the current turn in her mood didn’t mean he’d be evicted to his lonely igloo again for the night. Katara's room… and bed… _and body_ sounded so much nicer. His mind drifted back to their tryst in the kitchen and the chills that prickled her flesh as she rose out of bed this morning.

Malina's voice broke through his thoughts of warmth and _wanting_. "So, did you see her?"

"Her?" _Who? What? Um…_

"The snow leopard," she clarified.

"Oh. Yeah, I did."

"What was she like?"

Zuko had noticed that Water Tribe people all had their trademark blue eyes but with different facets and hues. Katara's blue was more like the ocean, and Hakoda's was more like ice. Kanna’s eyes were vibrant and sparkling whereas Pakku’s were a softer shade, almost gray. Malina's intense turquoise eyes now flashed with excitement, even in the darkness of night.

"Well, aside from being a cold-blooded killer, she was… amazing," Zuko answered truthfully. "She was beautiful. Like nothing I've ever seen before. Fur like the snow. Eyes like—" _Water Tribe… feisty… determined… and turquoise._

"Do you really think she's a killer? Or is she just doing what she has to in order to survive?"

"Oh. Um…” Zuko rubbed the back of his neck where his hood felt itchy all of the sudden. “Chief Hakoda said she was a predator. She liked the thrill of the hunt."

Malina laughed, the sound devoid of mirth. "And the wolf doesn't?"

Wary of some underlying meaning here, Zuko clinched his jaw and didn’t speak for the rest of their walk to the woodpile. Wordlessly, they each gathered an armful of firewood and began the trek back to the hut. Casting a sideways glance every now and then, Zuko tried to figure out what was going on with Malina. He saw the lines in her forehead where her brow remained creased and the short puffs of breath escaping her mouth, almost in sync with her heavy footsteps. Then, he caught her eye.

She sighed. "The difference is that a snow leopard hunts alone. They're not pack animals like wolves.” She paused, seemingly studying him for his response. "I think she is just misunderstood."

Zuko didn’t know what Malina was after, but he wasn’t talking about the snow leopard anymore. "Perhaps she is seen as cold-blooded because she preys on the pack and then targets the most vulnerable.”

"Some might think of it that way. But maybe she's just being opportunistic? Resourceful?"

"Well, she may be able to take on the lone wolf, especially in a weakened state, but she shouldn’t underestimate the pack.” _Be warned, leopard lady. I’m on to you._

"I wonder how the dragon fights.” Her tone shifted into something almost whimsical. “Is he all honorable or perhaps a bit self-serving, too?”

"He doesn’t... um, _they_ don’t—” Zuko swallowed thickly, afraid of falling into a trap. “I don’t want to fight you, Malina _.” I wanted to help you._

 "Who said anything about _you_ fighting _me_?" With that, she reentered the hut, casting a sly look over her shoulder, all cunning and… _catlike._

* * *

That night, Kanna charged Zuko with caring for Katara in her weariness from all the healing. Although he was grateful to be back in her apartment, it wasn’t the reunion he’d hoped for. She did offer to heal his knee first, then fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Even though he, too, was exhausted, Zuko tossed and turned, his brain unable to rest from the day’s events. When he finally drifted off, he dreamed of gleaming turquoise piecing through the darkness. Blasts of fire flashed in her eyes, but this time she was not afraid. The snow leopard devoured the wolf as the dragon watched in horror, helpless to stop her.

Zuko awoke to eyes like the ocean, deep with concern. "Were you having a nightmare about your father again?" Katara whispered.

"Ah, no." _I was having one about yours._

She pushed a sweaty lock of hair from his forehead. He sighed at the coolness of her touch.

"Katara, is this spirit animal stuff real?"

She tensed and pulled her hand away as if burnt by his words alone.

He propped himself up on his elbow to better look at her. “What’s wrong? What is it?"

“I don’t know,” she answered shakily, avoiding his gaze. “In some ways, the spirit animals make sense. But I can’t say for sure if I believe in them.”

Zuko plopped his head back down on his pillow and stared up at the ceiling. “I can’t decide if they just describe a person’s characteristics or some role they’re supposed to play. I don’t _feel_ like a dragon myself, but my life completely changed the day I met one.”

Katara rolled over, facing away from him. “Maybe your life is about to change then?”

He placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly when she shuddered. As much as he burned with curiosity, now was not the time to ask about her spirit animal again.

* * *

Kanna and Malina were seemingly competing to see who could make the biggest fuss over Hakoda's recovery, and it was clearly driving him crazy. At lunch two days after the incident, when they both insisted he take a second helping to improve his strength, he bellowed, "It was just a bloody leg! She didn't bite my fucking head off!"

A few seconds of awkward silence were then followed by Kanna’s soft, yet pointed words, "Manners, Chief. There are young women present."

"So, there are," Hakoda growled. "Sokka, Zuko, come with me." He pushed himself away from the table with unnecessary force and limped toward the door.

Katara’s brow furrowed in concern. “It _was_ just a bloody leg, but he’s not healing like he’s supposed to.”

“Your father’s under a lot of stress, moonflower,” Kanna said in a near-whisper, obviously not wanting him to hear.

“Sokka! Zuko!” Hakoda called after them.

Zuko frowned at his half-eaten lunch, but it was Sokka who verbalized the loss. "But Dad, I haven't even finished my first helping, yet." When there was no answer, he added, "Can I have your seconds?"

"SOKKA, COME HERE NOW!"

Both young men scrambled to their feet and joined Hakoda in the entryway where all three of them pulled on their snowboots and parkas.

"Where are we—" Sokka started, but Zuko tugged at his elbow and shook his head. Something wasn't right. Initially, he thought the wolf's pride had also been wounded in the fight, but there was that distant look in Hakoda’s eyes—the one that looked like fear.

No one spoke as they followed Hakoda out to the icehouse where they kept all their meat. He held up a hand, silently signaling for the other two to wait. He reappeared shortly with a frozen wolf carcass, the one from their hunt. Then, he led them to an open area between the icehouse and the hut, a generous setup with a large workbench, an array of tools, various baskets and bins, and a water spigot. Hakoda positioned the wolf on the table and handed a knife to his son.

"Sokka, skin it. Zuko, watch and learn."

Zuko braced himself, hoping this process wouldn’t affect him in the same way as fishing did. _At least the wolf is already dead._

Sokka took to the task with immediate focus, offering narration as he made his initial cuts along the animal’s legs and spine.

“Where’s the blood?” Zuko asked with surprising fascination.

“We drain it before we freeze it,” Hakoda said. “It’s better to skin ‘em while they’re still warm, though. That connective tissue is more pliable then.” He pointed to where Sokka was slicing along the hide, separating it from bone and muscle. The wolf’s fur softened as it defrosted, and Zuko began to see how thick, warm, and useful it would be.

Sokka kept working with considerable skill and diligence until the hide was fully removed. He handed a bone tool to Zuko for the finishing touches, and they both beamed at the finished product. In a word, it was beautiful.

"The fur goes to Bato,” Hakoda announced. “He'll be making a proposal soon, and it’s customary to—" His eyes widened with the realization that he'd said too much.

"Bato is going to propose? That's so exciting!” Sokka exclaimed. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Hakoda sighed and cleared his throat. “Nothing is official, yet. And I doubt Zuko’s heard.”

“Heard what?” Zuko was truly confused.

But somehow Sokka had a clue. “No way! Is it… the Fire Nation guard he’s been talking to?”

“Who, Captain Ming?”

Hakoda pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, they apparently met when our invasion force was captured after the Day of Black Sun. I ended up at Boiling Rock, but the rest went to—“

“The capital prison,” Zuko finished. “My uncle met Ming there, too.”

Sokka clapped Zuko on the back. “Guess you’ll be down a guard, then!”

“Or you’ll gain a tribesman,” Hakoda said.

"Bato wouldn't leave the South Pole, though. He _couldn't_ …" Sokka protested.

"Things are changing down here,” Hakoda replied, a crease forming in his brow. “Not everyone is… supportive."

Zuko perceived pain in his voice and that distant expression. There _was_ something more than a bloody leg going on, he was sure of it now. He knew Bato and Hakoda were close. Maybe they had an argument? Did Hakoda disapprove of the union? Maybe Bato didn’t like Malina… or just Northerners in general. Tensions had mounted enough to warrant intervention. Could he do something to help? Zuko came here for more than personal reasons. Perhaps he could offer diplomatic support.

"Whoa. Where did the Fire Lord go?" Sokka waved a hand in front of his face.

"He does that sometimes." Hakoda regarded Zuko for a few seconds before brandishing a large knife seemingly out of nowhere and chopping off the wolf’s head without so much as a warning.

Sokka yelped and jumped back. Zuko winced and closed his eyes. This plus Hakoda's comment at lunch were too much. Because in his dream from the night before, the snow leopard did, in fact, bite the wolf's head off before pinning him with wild turquoise eyes. _She prefers the thrill of the hunt…_

A clank of metal brought him back to his senses. Hakoda had placed smaller tools in front of them and started to explain, "Each of you will carve a jaw blade. The next person to carry it, will carry on your bloodline. You can give it to a son, a grandson, a son-in-law…"

Hakoda winked at him, and Zuko gave a knowing smile in return. His own jaw blade, a birthday gift from the chief himself, held more meaning than he’d realized back then.

“What about a daughter-in-law?” Sokka interjected. “Suki has been eyeing mine for some time.”

At this, Hakoda huffed. "It's _fine_ , I suppose. Traditionally the women don't go hunting, but I know Kyoshi Warriors are probably different.” Then, his expression softened. “Malina has been begging me to take her hunting, so maybe there are some women who are interested…"

Sokka laughed. "For some reason, I can't imagine she would be good at hunting."

Zuko gulped. For some reason, he could imagine she'd be great at it.

* * *

When they got back to Kanna’s hut, they found the women caught in fits of laughter. A red-faced Suki shot Sokka an apologetic look and pressed a fist to her mouth to suppress her giggles. Malina simply smirked at them while Katara was practically keeled over. Kanna's laugh rang out loudest among the four of them.

"What's so funny?" Sokka asked, looking back and forth between his grandmother and his fiancée. No one could collect themselves enough to give a proper answer.

Katara finally gathered her wits and said, "Well, Gran Gran thinks that Suki's spirit animal is… the… otter penguin!"

A renewed wave of laughter erupted from the womenfolk.

"Yeah, so?"

Even though Sokka was still oblivious, Zuko had caught on immediately. He had only heard one reference made to otter penguins, and it came from Sokka when they were all staying at his family’s vacation home on Ember Island. It was a late night talk with Aang about the sparrowkeets and flutterbees that went terribly wrong.

Suki cleared her throat, trying to keep a straight face. "Yes, apparently they are the peacemakers. Very community minded."

"Oh, and don't forget their sense of duty! And fun-loving nature," Katara added with a snigger.

"That… sounds… great," Sokka stammered. "Just like Suki, actually. So, what's the big deal?"

Zuko rolled his eyes and groaned. _Would someone just end this? Please?_

Katara took it as her sibling duty to mortify her brother. "I dunno, Sokka, why don’t you show your fiancée how much you like _penguin sledding_?"

Sokka suddenly went rigid, comprehension striking him like lightning. "Now, that's just… you shouldn't… and Gran Gran, too? Aw, fuck." He pushed past his father and stormed out of the hut.

Hakoda stepped forward and folded his arms across his chest in the way that made him look bigger and bearlike. He loomed over them, unmoved— _immovable_. The laughter stopped. Someone coughed. Zuko stared at a spot on the ground, willing the awkwardness to pass quickly.

"I hope the otter penguin is at least compatible with the eagle hawk," Suki said, putting her peacemaking people skills into effect.

"Eagle hawk?" Hakoda eyed Kanna suspiciously.

"Yes. I learned that was Sokka’s spirit animal years ago. His focus, his vision, his leadership skills…" Kanna replied.

"It’s just interesting because the eagle is usually a distinction made for a chief."

"Hmm, yes, your father was an eagle, wasn't he?"

The glare that Kanna received was perhaps the deadliest look Zuko had seen from the wolf, yet. He flinched as Hakoda brushed past him—past them all—and out of the room without another word. Malina rose to follow him.

"I would leave him alone right now," Kanna warned.

"I think I can handle it," Malina answered coolly as she strode away.

It wasn’t the first time any mentioning of Hakoda’s father had been met with such contempt. Zuko let out the breath he had been holding. He was definitely curious but wouldn’t be the one to bring up a painful subject, especially about family and fathers. He took a seat next to Katara, leaning into her and sighing contentedly as she reached over to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Well, I think all this spirit animal stuff is fascinating!" Suki chirped. "And Katara is a bird, too, right?"

Katara’s fingers slipped away, and Zuko felt her stiffen beside him. _What is the deal?_

"Oh, yes," Kanna replied. "Katara is a very special type of bird."

"Gran Gran, don’t…" She looked pleadingly at Zuko.

"One that is quite compatible with the dragon, in fact," Kanna continued.

"No," Katara whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

Zuko’s pulse quickened at seeing her so upset. What type of bird could possibly be so terrible? _Compatible with the dragon… that's a good thing, right?_

"I knew when Katara's spirit of determination was raised from her mother's ashes. She is a child of sacrifice, a fighter, a survivor. I knew she would not only bring healing to this world, but rebirth."

_Oh. It has to do with her mother._

But Kanna's next words left Zuko with a hitch in his breath and an ache in his chest as he watched Katara stand abruptly and scurry out of the hut.

"Katara is the spirit of the phoenix."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta, circasurvival, who is always challenging me to improve my writing!
> 
> Also, this chapter calls for a shout-out to the first zutara author I ever read who inspired me to start writing myself. I don't know how I stumbled upon Emletish and the Stalking Series, but I must attribute the Bato-Ming pairing to this lovely trilogy as well as the reference to penguin sledding, which is Sokka's phrase for wanking! Poor guy...


	13. Dark Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta, circasurvival, is awesome!

Despite the array of emotions Zuko had experienced there, Kanna’s hut always felt warm and cozy, the way a grandmother’s home should be. The main room was small and dimly lit, yet spoke of many gatherings filled with shared laughter and tears, scolding and storytelling, and the unbreakable bond of family. The welcoming hearth and haphazard piles of fur were such a contrast to Zuko’s own home—where a towering palace personified coldness and distance even with window-lined corridors bathed in ample sunlight and rooms built from walls of fire.

Zuko had never met either of his grandmothers, but Kanna was everything he expected a grandmother to be—loving, hardworking, and as fierce as a saber-tooth moose lion. He was still deathly afraid of stepping out of line, but their relationship was evolving, despite its rocky start. It certainly helped that Zuko’s dragon spirit seemingly erased all his misdeeds. Even though he still didn’t understand it, he wasn’t one to complain.

“Just give her some time, Fire Lord Zuko,” Kanna advised as they both stared at the spot Katara had just vacated in a flurry of tears.

“Should I go after her?” he asked.

Suki was practically bouncing with excitement. “Of course, you should go after her! Oh Zuko, haven’t you heard? The phoenix and the dragon are a well-known pairing, even in the Earth Kingdom. The _ultimate_ pairing.”

Zuko’s mouth went completely dry. “How would I have heard? What does that even mean?”

“It means you and Katara were destined for each other,” Kanna replied, beaming.

Suki gaped at him. “They don’t speak of it in the Fire Nation? They’re intertwined beings of sun and fire… seems like you’d have _some_ notion of them.”

Zuko had definitely heard references to the dragon and phoenix, both ominous and powerful, but never as the perfect pair. Perhaps his country had been fighting for so long, that all sense of love was lost, whether destined or legendary.

“It’s true,” Kanna interjected, her own excitement mounting. “Together they create balance and harmony, much like Tui and La, our ocean and moon.”

On spiritual matters, Zuko had his misgivings—with this dragon thing, in particular. But he had seen Tui and La together in the North Pole. Or rather, he’d seen the devastation when they were torn apart. He certainly felt more complete with Katara around, and conversely, a little lost when she’s not. _Of course_ he believed they were destined for each other—he wouldn’t be planning a proposal otherwise. But with Katara’s unexpected reaction, a seed of doubt took root. _If she doesn’t want to be associated with the phoenix, maybe she doesn’t want to be associated with the dragon, either._

Zuko’s brow furrowed with the warring of his thoughts, and his lack of response invited an uncomfortable silence to settle between them. Suki shifted from perplexed to pensive, staring fixedly at her hands and chewing on her bottom lip. Kanna’s gaze bore into Zuko with unnerving scrutiny, as if she was trying to read his mind. The fondness of her smile slowly faded, the creases around her eyes softening in concern.

“Don’t worry, Fire Lord Zuko. Katara is not unhappy with you,” she said at last. “There are certain connection _s_ to the phoenix that are… most unfortunate.”

Suki’s head shot up, and Zuko caught her eye, wondering if they were both thinking the same thing. No one wanted to be associated with the self-proclaimed Phoenix King. Zuko had only heard stories of his father’s rage on the day of Sozin’s Comet. Suki had actually been there, fighting to protect the world from Ozai’s fiery campaign.

Zuko and Suki both nodded in understanding, but Kanna’s next words, gravely spoken, took a different direction entirely.

“In the South Pole, we tell a most grievous story of The Phoenix. She was once a celebrated war hero, our long lost waterbender, and the only one to escape the clutches of the Fire Nation. When she returned home, many believed she had been resurrected by fire, and they feared her power. Rather than use the spirit of the phoenix to restore and heal her people, she was consumed by the ashes of bloodthirst and revenge.”

While the dragon egg still dumbfounded him, this sounded familiar. Zuko had heard stories of a powerful waterbender who managed to escape. The Fire Nation used this blunder as an excuse to employ more drastic and inhumane tactics. They even named the prison after her— _The Phoenix_ , remotely located and solely dedicated to detaining and eliminating waterbenders. Zuko himself shut down the operation as one of his first orders as Fire Lord.

He had heard about Hama, too, although he hadn’t made the connection until now. _The Phoenix_ had shared her power with another, and he’d witnessed it firsthand that night he and Katara invaded the Southern Raiders together. He shuddered, remembering the awe-inspiring, yet terrifying display—raised hands, arched fingers, and narrowed eyes—as she commanded the blood of her enemy. Katara wouldn’t speak of it until nearly two years later, at the beginning of their courtship.

 _Bloodbending is a curse and a blessing_ , she’d told him that day by the turtleduck pond. _It can control another person… but it has healing powers, too. I had to use it on the day of the comet… to heal you._

* * *

Zuko spent the rest of the afternoon mulling over his thoughts and half-heartedly looking for Katara to no avail. After everything with Kanna and the phoenix proclamation, his senses were so muddled, he didn’t know what he would say to Katara if he found her. He needed a place to clear his mind. He thought about heading to the waterfront, but then he might be plagued with memories of his first trip to the South Pole or forced to face these reoccurring dreams he was having about Makenna. Then he considered skirting around the edge of the forest, but silver fur, auburn hair, and turquoise eyes still haunted him. Where could he go that he would not be enslaved by his dark past and the onslaught of painful memories? Was there some place where the uncertain future didn’t lurk so closely, making him question everything? Where could he be free?

After aimlessly wandering around the village and then back to Kanna’s hut, a chopping sound drew him to the woodpile. Hakoda had also been missing for most of the day, probably seeking his own respite out here. Zuko watched for a few minutes as Hakoda brought down the axe with one forceful blow after another. For someone who wielded sharp objects so well, Zuko was glad to be on his good side. He would offer to help, but he figured Hakoda wanted to be alone. As he turned to leave, a gruff voice stopped him in his tracks.

"You just gonna stand there? The wood doesn’t chop itself, you know.” Hakoda tilted his head toward another axe leaning against the woodpile.

"I just thought—" Rather than try to explain, Zuko welcomed the work as a distraction. He positioned a piece of wood on the chopping block, lifted the axe, and prepared to take the first swing. All the while, Hakoda simply watched him with an unreadable expression.

"Am I holding it wrong?" Zuko had never chopped wood before, but it didn't look that hard.

"No, Zuko. You're fine. I was—" Hakoda wiped a layer of sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve. "I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Zuko let the axe head fall to the ground, his fingers loosely gripping the handle. Had he just walked into another deep, personal, and potentially confusing conversation? _Aw, shit. Not now. Not again…_

“Sorry for what… sir?" he dared to ask.

Hakoda sighed. "I owe everyone an apology. I've been very on edge lately. I've been under a lot of pressure as chief, but that's no excuse. I shouldn't take things out on my family. I'm sorry."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No, Zuko. Just keep being you."

The combined warmth of Hakoda's smile and the weight of those words made Zuko feel comforted and unsettled all at the same time.

If nothing else, Zuko was determined not to let Hakoda down. "Is there something I can do for political support? Are there ways the Fire Nation can help facilitate a more peaceful exchange between the North and the South? Are there resources we can provide that will make you less dependent on them… to ease some tension?"

Hakoda laughed. "I never thought I would see the day when the Fire Lord offered to keep the peace."

"Heh. Me neither."

"Hey, how good are your climbing skills?"

Zuko was already arranging trade agreements in his head. He blinked. "Uh, fair enough, I suppose."

Hakoda’s eyes lit up like sun shining on ice. "I want to show you something."

* * *

Zuko contended that he’d gotten off easy with hunting and fishing, and the _real_ test was climbing this damn cliff. This made scaling walls in Ba Sing Se seem like a breeze. Climbing at the Western Air Temple was similarly challenging, but without the occasional icy patch threatening his grip. Even the exertion of swimming in the arctic waters paled in comparison, as his forearms were nearly frozen with fatigue. When he finally pulled himself over the edge, his lungs screamed for air, and his legs quivered beneath him. He collapsed on the ground to catch his breath, pressing numb fingers and weary knees into the frosted rock. He rolled over and groaned, feeling perturbed that Hakoda had made the climb so effortlessly, even with a recovering injury.

Hakoda, a hovering shadow against the backdrop of a fading sun, took a quick drink from his waterskin and handed it to Zuko. "A hard and fast Water Tribe rule is never leave home without water."

"I’ll be sure to pack it next time with my war paint," Zuko huffed.

"Always good to be prepared.” Hakoda smirked down at him. “Hey, you can't see the view from there!"

Zuko grimaced and pushed himself to his feet despite his entire body aching in protest. Clearly, he needed a more rigorous training regime when he got home—like climbing volcanoes or vaulting palace walls. As he stood and took in the sight before them, there was no doubt in his mind that the climb had been worth it, though. They had a spectacular view of the city, dappled with candlelight as night settled around it, cradled by snow-capped mountains on both sides. Beyond that, he could make out the dark expanse of the sea with the faintness of dusk reflecting on its glassy surface.

"It's… breathtaking," Zuko said, although words couldn't really do it justice.

"I used to come up here all the time but haven’t recently,” Hakoda said. “It's amazing to see how much the city has grown with the reconstruction.”

"This would be a good place to think." Zuko reflected on his earlier search for such a spot.

They shared a few moments doing just that—thinking—while surveying the scene below. Zuko mind whirled with scattered thoughts on politics and questions about spirit animals. For some relief, he focused on steadying his breathing.

"As a kid, I served as a lookout on this cliff,” Hakoda started. “My father sent me to watch for Fire Nation invaders, but in reality, he was just trying to getting rid of me. But then I realized that I preferred it up here over being with the tribe. I didn’t like feeling useless, but I liked the solitude… and the view. When I think back, my father actually saved me by sending me away.”

"My father—" Zuko gulped. “I never thought of it that way, but I guess for me, it’s the same.”

“That’s the thing about expanding your view, Zuko. You gain… perspective.”

They stood in companionable silence once again, scanning the horizon as it claimed the last sliver of sunlight.

"Over the years, I've watched our tribe get torn apart and dwindle down to basically nothing,” Hakoda continued. “So many have sacrificed so much—their lives, their homes, their loved ones…"

His eyes darkened with a wave of sadness, reflecting the glassiness of the sea. "I relish this new growth. I want to see the Southern Water Tribe rebuild and prosper once again. But some say the sacrifices are still too great, that indebtedness is too high a price to pay, and we will lose what we fought so hard to save."

Zuko opened his mouth and closed it again, unsure of what to say. Hakoda shifted his weight, sighed deeply, and gestured toward the city. “ _This_ doesn’t feel like a loss to me… but maybe I’m just enjoying the peace while forgetting to watch for an unknown enemy.”

“I suppose the unknown enemy is more dangerous than the one you know,” Zuko mused aloud.

“There are a lot of unknowns out there,” Hakoda said. “And people are afraid of what they do not know. This is why I welcome the Northerners here and want to build alliances with other nations. So we can _know_ each other… not _fear_ each other. But Southerners think that because we are still small and weak, we will lose our identity if we let others in.”

"I think strength is measured more by character and culture rather than wealth and numbers. We can find a way to work together without compromising our individuality. We can share our heritage with others without having to sacrifice ourselves. The biggest challenge is finding balance in all of that.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Zuko thought they sounded like a clip from one of his Fire Lord speeches, with a little Uncle Iroh thrown in for good measure. He immediately felt inadequate—and a little ashamed—to be giving advice to Hakoda, of all people.

"Spoken like a true leader." Hakoda reached over and squeezed Zuko's shoulder where sore muscles were still recovering from the grueling climb. "You’re right. Balance _is_ a challenge,” he added. “And I consider it my privilege to work alongside you… for the sake of finding that balance."

Zuko winced at the firmness of his grip. "I’ll do whatever I can, but I think your confidence in me might be ill-placed. I still have a lot to learn."

"There is always more to learn about being a leader. As long as you stay teachable, you'll do great.”

"I—" Zuko swallowed, pushing back a pang of sadness. He suddenly missed his uncle, the one who _really_ saved him when his father sent him away. “I wouldn’t be where I am without good teachers. I wasn’t— _I’m not_ ready to lead an entire country.”

"I was 19 when I became chief, and I was far from ready. I felt young and inexperienced, and so… so alone _._ You probably always knew you’d be Fire Lord someday, but it was never my destiny to lead the tribe."

Zuko raised his eyebrows at this surprising statement. Not only did Hakoda seem like a _born_ leader to him, surely he was meant to be chief? _Unless he has a…_

“My brother was much older than me, so we were never that close. He was a waterbender, a prodigy in my father's eyes. Even from an early age, I felt like I was nothing compared to him. I was a misfit, a wanderer, content to spend hours up here on this cliff. I wasn’t really watching for the Fire Nation. I was just waiting for life to pass me by."

Zuko wondered if the dragon and wolf were somehow linked. Sure, the phoenix might be his soulmate, but he could relate with Hakoda on so many things—the estranged father, the out-performing sibling, the pressure of leading a country. Zuko’s curiosity was painfully piqued, but he wouldn’t dare probe further. _What happened to his brother? How did he become chief?_

"For all the time I spent up here, I wasn't here _that_ day. I was tracking a foxrabbit when the snow turned to soot. By the time I made it back to our village, the Fire Nation had kidnapped all our waterbenders… except for my brother. They left him to die. My father said it was my fault for abandoning my post and not warning them in time. I was barely eight years old."

Zuko gasped. "That's… terrible. There's no way it was your fault. It was the Fire Nation's doing." _It’s always the Fire Nation’s doing._

"I know that now,” Hakoda replied grimly. “But when the enemy sailed away, my father needed someone to blame. I never truly understood until the day Kya was taken from me."

Zuko snapped back to attention, searching Hakoda for an explanation. "But surely you didn’t—"

"Of course not. I promised myself I would never treat my own children that way. But I could relate. When something like that happens, you replay it over and over, trying to figure out what went wrong and what you could’ve changed. We all endure pain and suffering, Zuko. The difference is how we choose to respond to it.”

 _Suffering will be your teacher._ Zuko couldn’t say how many times he’d replayed that fateful day.

"Not long after my brother's death, Kanna arrived here in the South, pregnant and alone,” Hakoda redirected. “My father disliked Northerners but felt he had no choice but to take her in. I remember when Kya was born. She was… perfect. Beautiful. At peace. In the midst of my darkness, Kya gave me hope."

Hope was a funny thing. It had pulled Zuko from darkness, too. He would’ve never guessed where his obsession with catching the Avatar and restoring his honor would lead him, but it was his unwavering hope that saw him through. _What was it Uncle used to say? In the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength._

Unaware of Zuko’s internal monologue, Hakoda continued. "I vowed to protect Kya at all cost. I would never let what happened to my brother happen to anyone else. And yet, I still couldn't save her. I wasn’t _there_ …” His voice faltered as he choked back tears.

Zuko wanted to say that he understood. _Completely._ And that he could relate. _More than you know._ But when he saw Hakoda so distraught, the words lodged themselves in his throat. The best he could manage was, "It wasn't your fault."

The same burden of shame gripped them both—where the only lesson learned from their suffering was the one of self-blame. Zuko knew this about himself, but seeing it in someone else gave him a different perspective.

Hakoda took a moment to recover, sighing heavily and swiping the back of his sleeve across his cheek. Then, his tone shifted into something fierce, almost predatory. "With Malina, it's different. I don't feel protective of her. She's a little… wild… and I _like_ it. She makes me feel… alive. It's like feeling the thrill of the hunt—where you have power and are powerless all at the same time."

Heat rose to Zuko’s face with this unexpected turn in the conversation. He tried to shake the unbidden image of a wolf hunting, then humping a snow leopard. "Uh... OK."

Thankfully, the preying wolf was intuitive, too. "I'm sorry, Zuko. I normally talk to Bato about these things, but we had a falling out, of sorts. I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward.”

“No, I’m glad we could talk,” Zuko said, affirming this new confidant aspect of their relationship. “Thank you for telling me more about your family.”

“ _Your_ family,” Hakoda corrected. “So… have you asked Katara, yet?”

Zuko groaned. “Maybe we could agree not to discuss our love lives.”

“That’s fair enough.” Hakoda laughed. “No more love advice, but… if you need anything else… just ask.”

Something warm blossomed inside Zuko’s chest—where icy dread had previously been. “Likewise,” he said with a smile.

Hakoda squinted up at the half-lit moon, heralding the arrival of night. "It's getting dark. We should head back."

"But it was practically dark when we got here."

"This is a different kind of dark."

* * *

Hakoda claimed that climbing down the cliff in near darkness was too risky, yet somehow traversing the frozen edge posed less of a threat. Zuko was concentrating so hard on keeping his footing, that he nearly ran into Hakoda who had stopped to stare at the sky… again. _Why does he keep doing that?_

"The moon does not favor us tonight," was his ominous reply to Zuko's unspoken question.

 _Warm feeling gone._ "What was that?"

"It’s the last quarter moon. It means we are at a crossroads. Decisions made at such times of transition can either reflect the light from where we came or plunge us into complete darkness."

Zuko quirked a brow. "Doesn't this happen _every_ moon cycle, though? That sounds… so stressful."

"No. It’s not every time the moon enters this phase. Just any time you can feel it. Which for me… is now."

Zuko reflected on everything he’d learned about the wolf tonight—his upbringing marked by loss and suffering, his fallout with Bato and rising conflict with the tribe, and his hot pursuit of a woman who drove him wild. He wondered if Hakoda had any reason to be suspicious of Malina or if their relationship possibly clouded his judgment. Zuko wanted to trust Hakoda where she was concerned, but admittedly, there was something off about her. He wouldn’t say anything, though, since they settled this matter already… _no love advice._

"Let's keep moving," Hakoda said.

Zuko was no stranger to the symbolism of moons, only different interpretations of them. Shortly before they left for the South Pole, there was a blood moon, a red-tinted lunar eclipse. In the Fire Nation, this was a death omen, and its significance made Zuko want to delay their trip. Katara had convinced him otherwise, saying that the blood moon _used to_ signal an impending Fire Nation attack on the Water Tribe, but now that the war was over, it was simply a strategic positioning of sun and moon— _an alliance._

"The s-sun!" he blurted out.

"What is it, Zuko?" Hakoda, barely visible in the moonlight, stopped abruptly and turned to face him.

"I can feel it, too."

"Feel what?"

"Normally I can't feel the sun at night. But I was just thinking about the sun's relation to the moon. The half of the moon that’s lit up, it's because of the sun, right? And I can feel it. I think it means something. I think… I should help you with the transition somehow. That I'm supposed to shed light on—" _Malina._

He shook his head. _No... it’s not my place. I don't want to injure the wolf and end the thrill of the hunt._

Zuko’s brain shouted, _“Retreat!”_ as he reflexively shuffled backwards, away from the chief. Yes, he had wanted to help, but not like this. He felt like running away. He just needed some time to think.

"Zuko, NO!"

He wasn't running. He was falling.

And then there was nothing but darkness.


End file.
